


Katsuki Yuuri, Skater, Coach, Friend...Lover?

by SassynSweet



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character spelled Viktor with a K, Coach Katsuki Yuuri, Fanboy Viktor, Long-Haired Victor Nikiforov, M/M, POV Multiple, Pining Viktor, Reverse Coach AU, Slow Burn, Will start as coach/friends build to lovers, Young Victor Nikiforov, Yuuri nightmares
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-01-05 00:25:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 37,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12179409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassynSweet/pseuds/SassynSweet
Summary: Yakov Feltsman has come to the realization that he is not the best coach for his star pupil, seventeen-year-old Viktor Nikiforov. His bright yet flighty pupil needs a firm yet kind hand to guide him. Someone who could also be a friend to the lonely young skater.Could Viktor find this in Katsuki Yuuri, famed Japanese skater whose career was cut short in a horrible accident?Will these two become stronger together than they are apart?Reverse Coach AU. Slow burn - no underage. Coach/pupil/friends to lovers.





	1. It Begins - Yakov

**Author's Note:**

> After seeing so much adorable Reverse Coach AU art, I decided I needed to write in this AU. 
> 
> Ages at start of fic:  
> Yuuri - 25 years old  
> Viktor - 17 years old  
> Chris G. - 17 years old  
> Phichit - 20 years old  
> Yuri P - 13 years old  
> Mila - 15 years old  
> Georgi - 21 years old  
> Michele and Sara - 23 years old  
> JJ - 18 years old  
> Leo - 19 years old  
> Guang-Hong - 16 years old  
> Minami - 22 years o!d  
> Cao Bin - 27 years old  
> Otabek - 16 years old  
> Emil - 20 years old  
> 

  
Yakov barely felt the burn of vodka as he stared down at the gold ring resting on his desk. The ring that had graced his right hand for decades but no longer. It was over. Done. All hope of reconciliation gone with his barely legible signature next to Lilia’s elegant script.

  
Divorced. All he had now was his pupils. And the ice, that fickle mistress who had taken so much of him. He snorted, realizing how fanciful he’d gotten. Maybe his brilliant but flighty student was rubbing off on him.

  
He took another gulp of vodka. Vitya. He’d been like a father to the boy since he was seven years old. Had even opened his home to him until his student had moved out on his own earlier in the year, hopeful to give Lilia and Yakov space to save their marriage.

  
With the failure of his marriage, Yakov had begun to reflect on his other relationships, particularly Vitya. It troubled Yakov to see some similarities between himself and the boy. At seventeen years old, Viktor Nikiforov was a JGP and Junior World figure skating champion and already medaled several times in his two years in the senior division. Viktor had no family – only a poodle, which Yakov had given him and that accursed Swiss skater and competitor Christophe Giacometti as a friend. The boy lived and breathed the ice, pushing life and love away just as Yakov had done in his own youth.

  
Once Yakov had been a good coach for Viktor, giving him the needed structure and discipline that the boy needed, but as Viktor matured, they were like oil and water. Yakov had two volumes, loud and louder, and yet Viktor had become adept at tuning him out, only listening when it suited him.

  
As much as it hurt his pride to think, he needed to find his star pupil a new coach. Someone with a firm yet kind hand. Someone to guide Viktor who was a strange mix of worldly and naïve. Someone who would not squelch his creativity and talent yet provide focus. Someone to make sure the boy didn’t skate himself to death in the goal for perfection. That there was more to life than skating. A…A friend coach. An odd term, but it felt right.

  
But who could provide this? He mentally went through the list of coaches. Most already had one or more skaters they were mentoring. His mind stopped on Celestino Cialdini, former coach of the famed Japanese Ace, Katsuki Yuuri. Although Yakov thought Katsuki’s success had been due to his huge talent more than Celestino’s coaching, he had been hearing whispers about his current student, Phichit Chulanont. Yakov picked up his phone, browsing until he found videos of the Thai skater. He was indeed good. Was Celestino’s more casual style of coaching the answer? But would Celestino be willing to take on another student, especially one as high maintenance as Vitya?

  
Yakov’s thoughts stuttered to a stop as he watched another video. This one with Chulanont skating side by side with another man, their moves perfectly synchronized but while the Thai skater’s performance was top notch, there was something magical about the other man. Like he was making music with his body.

  
Although, his hair was longer and his body a bit thicker, there was no mistaking it. It was Katsuki. When had he started skating again?

  
Katsuki had dominated figure skating for years. His ballet background had given him a distinctive grace with his step sequences and spins as well as huge height for his jumps. An incredible talent cut short one early morning in Detroit when an inattentive driver had struck the skater while he was jogging. It was feared Katsuki would never walk again yet alone skate. He’d proven the doctors wrong with a fiery determination and was walking without assistance in a year. However when pressed by reporters, Katsuki had firmly stated he would not be returning to the ice.

  
Yakov squinted at the English on the screen. The video was tagged Phichit Chulanont skates with his assistant coach.

  
He flipped to his contact list and dialed Celestino. 


	2. Detroit - Celestino/Yuuri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celestino reflects. Yuuri is shocked and confused. Phichit rocks as best friend. 
> 
> Phichit is 20 years old in this fic as he is in canon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading and giving kudos first chapter.

**Celestino**

Celestino took a seat on one of the upper bleachers and silently observed Yuuri and Phichit. The two sat pressed together, intently viewing something on Yuuri’s phone. Likely a video from Phichit’s practice, given the way Yuuri pointed and gestured as he talked. The fun-loving Thai skater’s full attention was on the elder skater, nodding his head. He said something that Celestino was too far away to hear but caught the small smile on Yuuri’s face.

Yuuri. They say coaches aren’t supposed to have favorites, and he was proud of all his students’ accomplishments over the years but no one could compare to Yuuri. He remembered their first day together as coach and pupil. The tiny, nervous fifteen-year-old who had bowed and stammered out, “Take care of me, Coach.” He’d known the boy had talent, drive, and stamina. He'd known Yuuri had the chance to be great despite the boy’s anxiety. Yuuri had exceeded all his expectations winning medal after medal in the Junior and senior divisions. Grand Prix, World, and Olympic champion, Yuuri had been on top of the world and no one could stop him.

  
Celestino frowned, a growl rumbling in his chest. Except for one stupid driver. In an instant Yuuri’s competitive career was over. He had lost many nights of sleep worried about the young skater. How would he continue without the ice beneath his feet? Yuuri was a fighter. He'd pushed himself hard just to walk again. In many ways, Celestino was prouder of this accomplishment than any competition won, any World record Yuuri had set. Proud that he hadn’t let a setback that would be crippling to most get in his way. He was not only walking but skating no less, focused on Phichit’s growth instead of being bitter about his own lost opportunities.

  
Celestino sighed. He’d been so happy when Yuuri agreed to stay on as an assistant coach and help Phichit with his choreography. Celestino loved Yuuri like a son, and while Yuuri was one of the strongest people he knew, he still felt the need to protect him. To buffer him within the safe walls of their Detroit Skate Club, safe from prying eyes and gossips. He couldn’t ignore the magnitude of what Coach Feltsman was offering however. Yuuri’s skating career was done but the opportunity to coach a Russian star was legion. Extraordinary that Yakov would consider turning over even a small amount of control of one of his best skaters to such a new coach. Not that he doubted Yuuri’s abilities. He’d already seen so much improvement in Phichit’s skating and focus with Yuuri’s support.  
Now he’d just have to convince Yuuri this was a good idea because it would be almost criminal to turn down this opportunity. He counted on Phichit’s help because Yuuri was both extremely loyal and stubborn. This was not going to be easy…

  
He ambled down to where the two still sat lost in their discussion until he gave a little cough. They both looked up and smiled, Yuuri’s smile small while Phichit’s was bright like the sun.

  
“Hi Ciao Ciao, Yuuri’s helping me with my quad toe loop,” Phichit said.

  
_Ciao Ciao_. Celestino grinned at the nickname. While he’d only been coaching Phichit for a few years, he was already very fond of young man. His cheerfulness had done wonders while Yuuri recovered, something he would be eternally grateful for.

  
“Excellent. You’re making remarkable progress. I can’t wait to see what you do this season.”

  
Yuuri nodded. “You’re going to captivate the audience and judges with your natural charisma and higher technical abilities.”

  
If possible, Phichit’s smile got even brighter and his eyes sparkled.

  
“Yuuri, do you have a few minutes to talk?”

  
“Sure, Coach.”

 

Phichit made to stand.

  
“No, I’d like you to hear this too, as it impacts you as well.” Celestino rubbed the back of his neck, thinking of his words before he began. “Yuuri, I received a call from Yakov Feltsman. He’d like you to visit his rink in St. Petersburg.”

  
Yuuri’s mouth gaped open. “What?”

  
“He has a skater. Viktor Nikiforov – have you heard of him?”

  
Phichit gave a little gasp.

  
“Wasn’t he the Junior Grand Prix champion my last year?” Yuuri asked.

  
Celestino nodded. “Yes, he took Junior Worlds too before joining the senior division.”

  
Phichit grabbed Yuuri’s arm, “Yuuri, they say Viktor has the best chance of beating your records, and he’s only 17.”

  
“Oh, that’s impressive. But why would Coach Feltsman want me to go to Russia?” Yuuri scrunched up his brow.

  
“He wants you to meet Viktor. And if you’re a good fit, he’d like you to be Viktor’s coach.”

  
“What!” Yuuri shot up from the bench, his hands waving in front of him frantically. “But I’m just an assistant coach. I hardly know what I’m doing.”

  
Celestino sighed. “Yakov would still be Viktor’s main coach, you would be secondary. He has so many students, and Viktor needs extra support. Support you are very capable of providing."

  
“Yeah, Yuuri, you’ve been amazing for me.” Phichit chimed in.

  
Yuuri looked shell shocked. Celestino grasped his shoulder. “I know this is a lot to take in, but this is a wonderful opportunity, Yuuri. Take a few days to think about it. I’ll forward the email Yakov sent with some of Viktor’s videos.”

  
Celestino shared a look with Phichit. The Thai skater gave a small nod. He knew what to do.

* * *

  
**Yuuri**

Yuuri’s mind was looping, barely aware of the greasy, pepperoni pizza Phichit had shoved in front of him.

  
Coach Feltsman. Yakov Feltsman, former champion figure skater turned coach of a long line of Russian champions. Yakov Feltsman wanted Katsuki Yuuri, former skater and sort of coach to come to Russia. Was this even possible? What could a broken, anxiety ridden former skater possibly provide? Maybe it was pity. Yeah, that was probably it.

  
Yuuri felt a sharp nudge to his good leg. He glanced up at Phichit.

  
“Stop it. I know what you’re thinking. Coach Feltsman is a very shrewd man. He wouldn’t be offering this opportunity if you weren’t worth it. Yuuri, I know you haven’t been coaching long, but you’re amazing. Look how much I’ve improved.”

  
“But you’re so easy.”

  
Phichit placed a hand on his own chest and gasped dramatically. “Yuuri! That hurts!”

  
Yuuri rolled his eyes and grinned at his friend’s theatrics. “You know what I mean. You're the ideal student. You have natural talent and flare, but you also listen and work hard. I’ve barely done anything.”

  
It was Phichit’s turn to roll his eyes. “Whatever. Let’s watch those videos Ciao Ciao mentioned.”

  
There were four videos. Three performances and one a practice session. Viktor Nikiforov was a force of nature. Long silver hair flowing behind him in a ponytail as he commanded the ice.

  
“Oh, look there. He does that thing you do with your hands and look at the step sequence. He’s a fan of yours.”

Yuuri felt his cheeks warm but studiously ignored his friend’s comment.

  
“Here’s some more videos online.” Phichit said after they watched what Yakov had sent.

  
A few were interviews. They were conducted in Russian so Yuuri couldn't follow what was being said given his rudimentary knowledge of the language but they were interesting to watch. The change in the skater over the last few years was fascinating. In an earlier one, Yakov was doing all the talking while Viktor looked bored and seemed more interested in the piece of chocolate in his hand than the reporters. Yuuri chuckled. He could relate.

  
The next few the skater was more engaged but his expression was off. It took Yuuri a few minutes to recognize it. The dashing smile which the reporters seemed to be eating up, was so, so fake. His expression much more schooled than in the first video. Yuuri felt a wave of sadness for the boy. Yuuri shook his head. Maybe he was just projecting. He’d known how lonely skating could be. He’d never been that great a making friends choosing to focus on skating above anything else. It took an accident that had almost ended his life to know how important friends were. How much he had taken for granted in his drive to win.

  
Phichit clicked around a bit before pulling up another video. “Yuuri, this was posted by one of Viktor’s rink-mates after the accident,” he said before pressing play.

  
Oh. _Oh_. It was Yuuri’s routine. His free skate from his last season. And Viktor skated it beautifully. He under-rotated and fell on the last jump, but it wasn’t surprising. It was a very demanding program, and not many people could do jumps at the end of their programs like Yuuri could.

  
He covered his mouth and a tear spilled down his cheek. Yuuri had been no genius. He had had to fight for every win with blood, sweat, and tears. And this boy – he was going to make history. Yuuri knew it deep in his bones. And he could be a part of that?

“So when are you booking your flight?” Phichit asked.

  
“But Phichit, I can’t leave you. You’re my best friend.”

  
“Yes, and I say as your best friend you’d be crazy not to go and at least check it out. Besides, I’ll always be your friend no matter where you are. See there’s this little invention called the phone – you may have heard of it.” Phichit grinned.

  
“Yeah?” Yuuri’s smile was wobbly and his eyes watery.

  
Phichit pulled him into a hug. “Yep, time for you to leave the nest and take care of baby Russian skaters. I’m so proud of you, son.”

  
Yuuri squeaked. “Phichit, I’m older than you!”


	3. St. Petersburg The Visit - Part 1 (Viktor)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor finds out Yuuri's coming to visit. He reflects on his past feelings for his idol. Yuuri arrives - Chris loses his ability to speak English, and little Yuri tries to kill Yakov...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The visit will span three days and include a visit from Lilia. I decided to break it up because I won't have time to write everything and post before going on vacation.

**Viktor**

  
Viktor slumped into the chair opposite Yakov’s desk with a loud sigh. He wanted to be skating not talking. Talking was so boring. Especially when it was Yakov. His attention to what Yakov was saying faded out as he visualized the routines he was developing. His goal this season was to master the quad flip. No one had landed it in competition yet. Viktor knew he could do it. The thrill of the challenge sent a shiver down his spine, and he wiggled in his seat.

“Vitya, are you listening to me?” Yakov grumbled.

 “Of course, Coach Yakov.” Viktor gave his most innocent smile.

Yakov rolled his eyes. “Your tutor has been satisfied with your work. He says you will complete all the requirements and take your final exams in September. Very good.” Yakov scowled. “However, you’ve missed the last four etiquette and decorum sessions with Mrs. Rozhkova.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot about those.” He gave a nervous laugh and played with the ends of his ponytail.

“Those lessons are mandated by the FFKK, Vitya. You need to complete them before the season starts or face disciplinary action.”

He flinched before straightening his shoulders. _Be brave, Vitya_.  “I’ll catch up, I promise.”

His coach nodded. “Good. Have you given any more thought regarding college?”

“I’ve decided  to focus only on skating.” Viktor shrugged. “There’ll be plenty of time to further my education after I retire.”

Yakov frowned but didn’t argue. “I’ll need you at the rink next week. I’m interviewing an assistant coach and need you to meet with him.”

Viktor grabbed the arms of his chair, half rising in distress. “But Yakov, Chris is visiting!”

“I know, you’ll just have to work your time with him around this. There will be plenty of time to socialize with Christophe.” Yakov smirked. “Aren’t you curious who’s coming to the rink?”

“Maybe a little.” He stared at the ends of his hair. _Were those split ends? The horror!_

Yukov cleared his throat. “Well, I hope you can show a little more enthusiasm while Katsuki Yuuri is here.”

Hair forgotten, Viktor leaped to his feet. He planted his hands on the desk, suddenly feeling light headed. “Katsuki Yuuri, Grand Prix, World, and Olympic figure skating champion?” He squeaked out.

“No,Katsuki Yuuri, plumber.  Of course, Vitya!” He gave Viktor a fond smile.

“Wow, oh wow! Amazing!” Viktor did a little spin before stopping. “He’s coaching?”

“He’s been assisting his former coach with the Thai skater – Chulanont.”

“Oh!”

“I want you to be on your best behavior while he’s here, Vitya. If all goes well, he’ll mainly be coaching you.”

“But Yakov, I don’t need another coach. I have you!” Viktor wailed. He had Yakov right where he wanted. He didn’t need another coach breathing down his neck even if it was Japan’s former skating ace and Viktor’s idol.

“I will still be your primary coach, but you would greatly benefit from his experience and guidance.”

Yakov sighed at Viktor’s mulish expression. “Just give it a chance, Vitya. This could be amazing for your skating. I feel it in my gut.”

Viktor dropped the pout. Yakov’s gut instinct was a thing of legend. He gave a small nod. “I will do my best.”

“Good. Now get out of my sight and go practice!”

“Yes, Coach!”

 

 

After practice Viktor took Makka for a walk and ate dinner. He thought about calling Chris to tell him the exciting news, but decided to surprise him. Viktor loved surprises, and this was going to be one of the best. Chris was almost as big of a fan of Yuuri’s as he was. 

Even though he’d attended the same banquets he’d never spoken to the Japanese skater. Yakov kept a tight leash on Viktor during these events, preventing him from potentially embarrassing the Russian team with his fanboy antics. Ironic since Yakov was the one who’d brought the amazing skater to his attention in the first place. And now he wanted Viktor’s idol to coach him?

Viktor was first introduced to Katsuki Yuuri when he was nine years old. His rink mate, Georgi was preparing for his junior Grand Prix debut but emotions were running high for the thirteen-year-old. During practice one day Georgi fell on the first jump of his routine. It wasn’t a bad fall, but Georgi didn’t get up, choosing to sit on the ice and cry in frustration.

Yakov got him off the ice and made sure he wasn’t hurt before gathering the novices and other junior skaters together in the media room.

_“Everyone falls. The important thing is to get up and keep going.” Yakov found a video and played it on the screen._

_Everyone flinched as the skater fell badly on his first jump yet he sprang back up and skated the rest of his routine beautifully._

_“What did you see?”_

_“He fell bad.” One novice said and they all nodded in agreement._

_“Yes he did, but he got back up and skated like he hadn’t had fallen at all. Always be ready to adjust for your errors, because they will happen. That is a true sign of a champion.”_

_Viktor raised his hand.  “Who is that skater?”_

_“That’s Katsuki Yuuri from Japan, Vitya. He just moved into seniors after winning gold at the Junior Grand Prix and Worlds.”_

_“Oh, he’s pretty.” Viktor said and the others giggled._

_“Yes, he skates beautifully. Which is another lesson. High TES scores are good but jumps aren’t everything. Katsuki’s high performance scores often cover for technical issues allowing him to win even when he fumbles jumps.”_

Over the years Yakov had shared many of Yuuri’s videos, as guides for step sequences and spins. Viktor was in awe of the older skater who danced on the ice in a way he’d never seen before.

By the time Viktor was eleven he was a huge fan of Katsuki Yuuri. He was a member of his fan club, read every article he could find, and had dedicated a scrapbook to the skater. Lilia was very particular about things hanging on the walls but he had two posters of Yuuri on the back of his bedroom door. 

Once he found out Yuuri had a dog, he’d begged Yakov for one and was thrilled to receive a poodle on his twelfth birthday.  While Yuuri’s dog Hana was a toy poodle, Makkachin was a standard size, better suited to the bitter Russian winters.

Viktor was intrigued by the Japanese skater. Off the ice he seemed shy and had no fashion sense whatsoever, unless athletic wear was counted, in which case Yuuri rocked the look. Viktor knew that the skater got rounder on the off-season and loved his adorable round cheeks. Like most of his fans, Viktor thought Yuuri was a cinnamon roll meant to be protected even though the skater was eight years older than him. He was just too precious.

On the ice Yuuri shone with confidence and a flinty glare that some said was just because he couldn’t see for shit without his glasses. Whatever the reason Viktor found that steely look exciting, especially after puberty kicked in and his hormones went wild.

Viktor gently nudged Makka off his legs, standing he stretched before rooting around in his over stuffed bookcase. Ah, there it is. His old scrapbook. He returned to the sofa, and Makka settled back against him with a sigh. He chuckled as he ran his fingers over the name at the bottom corner.

Viktor Katsuki-Nikiforov. He’d used to daydream one day meeting his idol and dazzling him with his skating so they fell in love and got married. After racking up medal after medal, they would retire to coach and raise a family of poodles together.  He sighed. What a nice dream that had been. If only he’d had the chance to skate on the same ice as his idol….

Viktor flipped through the pages cooing over a picture of Yuuri yawning broadly at rink side. So adorable! Only to have his cheeks heat as he turned to another page.  It was an ad from Nike’s “I’m an athlete too” campaign.  Yuuri was posed shirtless on a bench. His skates rested on the floor next to his bare, bruised feet. He was hunched over, one hand on an ankle but he was glaring into the camera, daring anyone to challenge that he was an athlete. Yuuri was fierce and hot, yet Viktor felt an urge to kiss the tops of those bruised feet. And don’t get him started on the Calvin Klein ad….

The scrapbook had several empty pages, Viktor had stopped adding to it after Yuuri’s accident. He had cried for two days, worried about his idol. As news of Yuuri’s recovery filtered through Viktor was thrilled yet mourned the loss his beautiful skating and the chance to skate with him. Viktor dedicated that season to Yuuri, skating for the man who had inspired him in so many ways.

Makka stuck his nose on the book and snuffled it.  
  
Viktor laughed. “Makka! This is Yuuri, you’re going to meet him next week. Isn’t that amazing?”

“Boof!”

 

* * *

 

 

As Yakov and he waited at the Pulkovo International Airport for Yuuri’s plane to arrive, Viktor examined the sign he’d created.  He had printed Katsuki Yuuri and added it in Kanji below.  He'd drawn a poodle at one corner because Yuuri liked dogs and added some roses – blue like his favorites, and then a dash of glitter because who doesn’t like to see some sparkle by their names?

When the plane landed, Viktor barely restrained himself from bouncing on the balls of his feet. He radiated nervous energy. Yakov grunted next to him. “Vitya, calm yourself.”

Viktor didn’t acknowledge him as he watched the travelers stream in and contemplated how he should greet his idol.  His first instinct was to glomp him with a big, squishy hug maybe that wouldn’t be received well. Maybe a smile and a cheeky wink. He placed a finger to his lips. _Hmm._   He snapped out of  his thoughts and held his sign up again when he spotted a man shuffling over to them.

He wore a blue beanie, glasses, and a mask covering the lower part of his face. He stopped in front of them. Lowering the mask, he bowed, and greeted them in Russian. Viktor’s mouth dropped open in surprise, his gaze cutting to Yakov.  His coach returned the greeting before switching to English.

“Welcome to Russia. I hope your travels went well.”

“Yes, thank you, Coach Feltsman. It’s good to see you again.” Yuuri gave a small smile and looked at Viktor. “And nice to meet you, Viktor.”

Oh, oh wow. Yuuri’s English was very good but he still had an accent making Viktor's name have something extra. Viktoru~ It was so darn cute.

Yakov nudged him, and he realized he was still standing there with his mouth gaping open in a very unattractive way. He plastered on his ‘press’ smile and said. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Katsuki.”

The older skater laughed, “Oh, ah Yuuri is fine. If I hear Mr. Katsuki, and I’m going to be looking for my dad.”

After getting Yuuri’s luggage which Viktor insisted on wheeling to the car, they were off to the restaurant for dinner. The rest of his rink mates were meeting them there. Viktor sat in the back but pushed his head between the seats. “So you speak Russian, Yuuri?”

“A little. My former ballet teacher lived in Russia for a time and taught me some phrases.” The older skater blushed. “Ah, many of them aren’t meant for polite company.”

Viktor giggled. “You’ll get along famously with our Yuri then.”

Yakov pushed Viktor’s face with his hand. _How rude!_ “Vitya, I’m trying to drive. Sit back and stop distracting me.”

“Fine.”

They soon arrived at the restaurant. Yuuri brought a paper bag inside, and Viktor wondered what it contained. Maybe some premium nuts? He liked those. Yakov led the way to the table where the other skaters and Chris were waiting. Yakov sat at the head of the table. Yuuri moved to sit next to little Yuri Plisetsky, leaving Viktor the seat directly across from Yuuri and next to Chris. He stared at the thirteen-year-old in worry. While little Yura looked like a golden-haired angel, he was really a foul-mouthed little demon who would sooner snarl and possibly bite depending on what you did to him.

Yakov started the introductions. “Everyone this is Katsuki Yuuri. You may call him Coach Yuuri or Yuuri. Next to Vitya is Christophe Giacometti of Switzerland.”  The ‘so not one of mine’ hung in the air as Yakov glared at the unexpected guest to their dinner party.  Viktor owed Georgi a huge favor for bringing Chris along.

Whether it was Yakov’s glare or the surprise of seeing Yuuri, Chris flushed and blinked rapidly before squeaking out “ _Bonsoir_.”

Yuuri smoothly returned. “ _Je suis très heureux de faire votre connaissance._ ”

 Chris squeaked again and ducked his head. Viktor smiled at his friend’s unusually shy reaction.

Yakov continued the introductions to include Mila, Georgi, and finally little Yura, who forgot he was an emo teen and smiled broadly at Yuuri.

“It’s so fucking cool that I have the same name as a cyborg. Did you set off all the detectors with all the metal in your body?”

The Russians at the table gasped and Yakov's face turned an ugly purplish-red color. Yuuri just stared at Yura. Maybe he’d said it in Russian – the boy’s English wasn’t as strong as the older skaters.

Then Chris muttered “ _Mon Dieu_.”

So nope, not in Russian.

Yuuri covered his face with his hands, his shoulders shaking. Oh, no was he crying? They had broken Japan’s treasure. The JSF would get them kicked out of the ISU, and Viktor would be forced to panhandle to get food for Makkachin…

Wait, was that laughter? Yes, Yuuri was indeed laughing. He wiped his eyes before grinning at little Yura. “No, but I receive a pat down instead. TSA was very thorough.” He blushed looking around the table.

Chris muttered something about ‘lucky them’ under his breath in French.  Viktor wondered if his English would be rebooting anytime soon.

The waiter came to take their order, and Yuuri asked the team for recommendations. Little Yura insisted he order pirozhki even though they weren’t as good as his grandpa’s.

Viktor rolled his eyes. You’d think the only food in Russia worth eating were pirozhki the way Yura talked, but they were the boy's favorite.

Once the waiter left, Yuuri exclaimed, “Oh, I have gifts!”  He handed out beautifully wrapped presents to everyone including Chris.

“Pour moi?” Chris asked in stunned amazement.

Yuuri nodded and responded in English “I brought extras, but please forgive the inferior American chocolate. Had I known you were coming I would have left it out. Swiss chocolate must be what God eats.”

Chris smiled and stuttered out. “ _Merci_.”

Yuuri grinned.

“So cool, a tiger stripped scarf and skating gloves. I love them!” Yura crowed.

Mila spoke holding up a purple scarf. “Coach Yuuri, it’s beautiful and my favorite color. Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.” His cheeks turned red, like rosy little apples. Maybe Viktor could sneak a picture…

“My scarf looks hand-made. What lovely work.” Georgi chimed in.

“Oh, um, I knitted all of them.”

A homemade gift from his idol - was he dreaming? “You did! That’s amazing!”

Yuuri turned a brighter red and stared down at his empty plate. “I had a lot of time on my hand during my recovery, and knitting took my mind off things.”

There was an awkward silence while Viktor opened his own package. Hair ties, nail polish, an ice-blue scarf, and a dog toy. “Wow, a toy for Makkachin too! Thank you!”

“You’re welcome. I’d heard you had a dog.”

“Yes, Makka’s a poodle.”

“I have a poodle too.”

“What a coincidence.” Yura butted in, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “What’s your dog’s name?”

“Hana. Usually I call her Hanachan.”

“It means flower,” Viktor said trying to get the attention back to him and away from the devil's spawn.

“Actually it means nose.” Flower and nose sound very similar to non-Japanese speakers, it’s a common mistake.”

“You named your dog Nose? That's so stupid,” Yura smirked.

Yakov had a vein throbbing in his forehead, and Vitkor worried their coach wasn’t going to survive the end of the meal.

“Yuri Plisetsky, you will be polite. Apologize to Coach Yuuri!!" Yakov shouted. 

Yuuri jumped a little in his chair.

“Sorry.”

Yuuri just nodded. “I called her ‘Nose’ because she was a very curious puppy, always nosing around and getting into trouble.”

“Does she live with you in Detroit?” Yura asked, seeming genuinely interested.

“No, she’s getting older now, so she lives with my family in Japan.”

Mila teased Yuri about his cat’s name and fortunately the food arrived before Yakov blew a gasket.

Everyone low-key watched Yuuri take his first bite of pirozhki. “Vksuno!”

Viktor grinned. This was the most fun he’d had in ages.


	4. St. Petersburg The Visit (Part 2) Yuuri/Yakov

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is Yuuri's first full day in Russia. He experiences Team Russia's antics first hand, and LIlia makes a surprise appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 100 Kudos! Wow! Thank you so much! I was able to finish day two of the visit before going on vacation. Part 3 will focus on Yuuri and Viktor's one on one time, so I'll need more time to write that.

**Yuuri**

The only thing Yuuri wanted to do when he got to his hotel room was crawl into bed and sleep for the next twelve hours. Unfortunately, he needed to stretch, shower, and call Phichit, or he’d be miserable tomorrow. It was early morning in Detroit, and he’d already texted when he arrived, but Phichit had insisted he call when he got settled. Yuuri decided to tackle two things at once by putting on his phone on speaker so he could talk while he stretched.

“Yuuri!” Phichit exclaimed.

He smiled a tired smile. Phichit radiated joy across the distance.

“Hi Mom, I’m still alive.” He drawled.

“How was your flight?”

“Long. Glad I listened to you and upgraded to business class. I don’t think my hip would have survived in economy.”

Phichit hummed. “I’m surprised you didn’t call sooner.”

“Sorry, Yakov took me to a team dinner right after he picked me up from the airport. I just got to my room.”

“Oh, that’s good. So you met all of his skaters?”

“Yep, and for some reason a Swiss skater, Christophe Giacometti, was there even though Yakov didn’t seem thrilled.”

“Oh, Chris was there? He’s Viktor’s BFF. What was he like?”

“He seemed rather shy?”

“Really? Chris has quite a rep with the younger skaters. Leo and Guang Hong have some stories… but how about everyone else?”

“Well Yakov was … intense. I was nervous meeting everyone until I met Yura.”

“Yura?”

“Yuri Plisetsky. He’s debuting in juniors this year. His nickname is Yura, and it’s easier for everyone to call him that so we both don’t answer when someone says Yuri. Anyway, when Yakov introduced us, Yura called me a cyborg and wanted to know if I’d set off the airport metal detectors. I thought Yakov was going to have a stroke. It was hilarious.”

Phichit laughed. “What a little sass bucket! I wonder if he’s on insta.” 

“It was good to see Georgi again. And they liked the scarves.”

“Katsuki originals? Of course they liked them!”

Phichit was his one man cheering squad.

“And Viktor?”

“Seems like a good kid. Very enthusiastic and has a lot of energy. Makes me feel old.”

Phichit snorted. “Old man Katsuki at twenty-five. Next year you’ll be yelling at the kids to get off your lawn.”

“Sounds about right. Say Phichit have you heard of pirozhki? They’re almost as good as katsudon.”

“No but must be really amazing if you could compare it to your favorite dish.”

They talked a little longer. Yuuri promised to continue reporting in before ending the call. He took an extra hot shower too tired to soak in the tub. Quickly drying, he shrugged on an old, soft t-shirt and his sleeping shorts. He sighed happily as he snuggled under the covers, wrapping them tightly around him and immediately fell asleep.

The next morning Yuuri had stretched, dressed, and was heavily caffeinated by the time Yakov picked him up. He struggled to suppress his yawns. Mornings sucked hard no matter where he was, and he was still jet lagged.

Yakov glanced at the sports bag at his feet. “You brought your skates?”

“Yeah, thought I’d get on the ice this afternoon if that’s okay.”

Yakov nodded. “We’ll join the team for breakfast at the rink, and then I’ll give you a tour while everyone does their stretches. Today you will observe group practices to see how they work together and share the ice. Tomorrow you will have one on one time with Vitya.”

“Sounds great. Do all your students live nearby?”

“Da, all within walking distance. Georgi, Mila, and Yura live at the dormitory. Vitya lives on his own because the dormitory is too small for his dog. Breakfast and lunch are provided at the club all days except holidays. The students manage their dinners. I have some concerns about Vitya’s recent eating habits. He rarely eats at the rink and isn’t much of a cook. His weight and health are good but depending on his growth spurt he could fall below the line. Plus, he’s already high-strung enough without those stupid energy drinks the kids are drinking these days.”

“That’s good to know.  Nutrition was my minor in college, so I would be able to assist with his dietary needs and teach him how to prepare his meals.”

“Good.”

Yakov parked outside the Sports Champions Club. The structure was modern and impressive. A far cry from the humble Ice Castle Hasetsu, where Yuuri had started ice skating. But while Ice Castle had a feeling of home, this club seemed cold and imposing. He shivered, the morning air was chilling his cheeks and ears from the short trip from the car to the entrance.

Once inside Yakov led him to the cafeteria. He selected some scrambled eggs and toast before joining the team in the small dining room. Little Yura looked like he was going to face plant into his breakfast while Viktor chatted with Mila. Sure enough the young skater wasn’t eating with the rest of his team.  He laughed at something Mila said, earning a disgruntled grumble from Yura.

“Good morning, Coach Yuuri!” Viktor bounced in his chair, very perky for this time of morning.

“Shut up already, you stupid idiot.”

“Yura, eat your breakfast! Viktor, if you’re not eating, go start your stretches.”

“Yes, coach!” The two skaters exclaimed at once. Freaky.

Yuuri took the place Viktor vacated and chatted briefly with the skaters. He appreciated their efforts to make him feel welcome even if that meant speaking English with varying degrees of success.

Yakov showed him around the facility, including the administrative section where Yakov’s office was located. The building was as impressive on the inside as on the outside.

“This club also hosts other figure skaters – pairs, ice dancing, and a few singles skaters who aren’t mine, and of course the hockey players.”  Yakov frowned in distaste at the last. Yuuri had gotten along with the hockey players at his Detroit rink mainly because they were a laid-back group of guys who understood figure skating wasn’t all sequins and feathers. It helped that their coach’s son was a pairs skater. No one dared piss off their coach by messing with the figure skaters. Yuuri knew this wasn’t very common though, and made a note to pay close attention to the schedule, as ice times were often what started battles between the two groups.

Back rink side, Yakov ran the team through warm up drills, yelling instructions like a drill sergeant. The skaters responded well to his direction but Yuuri flinched occasionally at the volume. The skaters then began to work on whatever Yakov had identified for them. Yuuri noticed that Viktor was inconsistent with some of his jumps – his free leg was sloppy and he was not centering well on some of his spins likely due to his growth spurt. All things Yuuri felt he could assist with.

Little Yura fell hard.  Viktor quickly skated over and offered his hand, which Yura slapped away. “I can get up on my own, loser. It’s your fault anyway.”

“My fault?” Viktor’s confused expression was cute, his head cocked to the side like a puppy’s.

“Yeah, I was blinded by the ice glare reflected off your huge forehead.”

“Yura, so mean!”

Yuuri chuckled softly. What a salty little shit.

Yakov called lunch break. “I have a RSF conference call and sponsor follow-ups this afternoon, so be good for Coach Yuuri.” He eyeballed them and they all shouted. “Yes, coach!”

Viktor left saying he needed to walk Makkachin. Yuuri had borscht with the remaining three. Afterwards he excused himself to the empty locker room where he changed into his practice gear, carrying his skates with him.

When he returned rink side, there was chaos off the ice. Georgi was crying, staring at his phone. Yura was yelling at Mila in Russian. Yuuri understood the word ‘hag.’ Mila merely picked Yura up and lifted him over her head. Damn. Yura was a bit scrawny but she still had impressive upper body strength. Thank goodness, they weren’t on the ice. Oh, and there was Chris. When had he arrived? He was posing taking photos of his own ass?

Only Viktor was on the ice, skating leisurely with his back to the chaos. As he looped around, Yuuri saw he was carrying a large dog in his arms. Yuuri had skated with Hana before, but she was tiny compared to Makkachin.

Geez, no wonder Yakov had lost so much hair in the last few years. Yelling wasn’t Yuuri’s style so he decided to get their attention in a calmer fashion. He laced up his skates and took to the ice and started skating figures, the precise movements and feel of the ice soothing his soul.

Viktor glided over to the barrier and handed Makkachin over to Chris while the rest of the skaters gathered to watch Yuuri skate.

“How about you show me what you’re working on for next season?” Yuuri motioned for them to join him.

Each one ran through pieces of their new skates, and Yuuri was impressed with how much they’d already accomplished since the last season had barely ended.

Little Yura was struggling with his Y spin.

Yuuri demonstrated and said, “So that’s the positioning needed to maintain the spin. Not too bad for a cyborg?”

Yura shrugged. “It didn’t suck.”

Viktor skated by. “Oh, that’s high praise.”

“Shut up, moron!”

“I love you too, Yurochka!”

Yura growled and skated after Viktor who giggled and raced away. Mila and Chris dropped onto their stomachs and slid like penguins across the ice while Georgi was back to crying over his phone.

Yuuri shook his head. What a crew. He clapped his hands. “Okay, you’ve worked hard, let’s have some fun. What kinds of moves are you working on for exhibitions?”

Georgi did an impressive jump split, and Mila’s backflip almost gave him a heart attack. Little Yuri did some cool hydroblading while Viktor channeled Johnny Weir with an impressive slide, his hair flowing on the ice behind him.  Even Chris joined in – Yuuri wasn’t quite sure what he was doing but it definitely wasn't G-rated.

Yura yelled, “Stop being gross on the ice, Giacometti!”

After a water break Mila waved her hand shyly, getting his attention. “Coach Yuuri, I’ve always wanted to see one of your step sequences in person. Could you please show us?”

“Oh, um, sure.” 

 __________________________________________

 

**Yakov**

  
Yakov couldn’t remember the last time he’d been able to take meetings without being interrupted by his squabbling students. While very talented, his skaters seemed to thrive on drama normally reserved for trashy reality TV shows. His sense of calm deserted him when he opened his door to find Lilia standing there, her arms crossed.

“Lilia, what are you doing here?” In all their years together, she’d never stepped foot in his skate club.

“Where is he?” She asked in that regal tone that grated on his nerves.

“Who?” He honestly didn’t know.

“Yuri.”

“Plisetsky? He should be on the ice.”

“The other Yuri.” She said impatiently. Her tone clearly calling him a dumbass.

“He should be with the rest of the team.”

“Take me to him.”

He scowled. He didn’t need her shouldering her way around his domain, and Yuuri was his guest. “Now, Lilia…” but trailed after her.

They stood side by side at the boards watching Yuuri perform a level four step sequence before gliding effortlessly into his signature Ina Bauer. All skaters were focused on him, including that damn Swiss boy sitting with Vitya’s dog. How many times had he told Vitya no dogs at the club… His internal rant was interrupted by a small sniffling sound at his side. He turned slightly, catching Lilia delicately dabbing at her eyes.

“So beautiful. A true miracle after what happened.”

Yakov wasn’t aware Lilia knew about Katsuki Yuuri.  “How do -“

“Lilia Sensei!” Yuuri’s voice rang out as the skater sped to the barrier. Stopping in front of Lilia, he bowed. She smiled, a mere upturn of her lips, which was positively beaming for her. She clasped Yuuri’s hands in greeting. Yukov’s eyebrows shot up.

“Thank you for all your words of encouragement. They really helped during my recovery.” Yuuri said.

“Are you still doing the stretching regiment Minako and I created for you?”

Yuuri nodded. “Twice daily.”

“Good. My studio is always open to you. I hope to see you there.”

“Thank you, Lilia Sensei.”

On the ice, Yura started to squawk profanity, but before Yakov could yell, Yuuri skated back to the team, effectively silencing whatever the teen was on about.

“You and your band of hooligans better treat him right or there will be hell to pay.” Lilia said staring down her nose at him before sauntering toward the exit.

Yakov wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked at Yuuri with renewed respect. Anyone able to illicit that kind of emotion from his ex-wife was truly special.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Yakov, he has the best of intentions and still has to deal with a pissy Lilia. Everyone wants to protect Yuuri the cinnamon roll, even though he is clearly quite strong on his own.
> 
> After the visit part 3, we'll have some angst to balance the fluff. Viktor overhears part of a Yakov and Lilia discussion (interrupted by our favorite salty son) and adds 2 + 2 and comes up with 5, which leaves Yuuri receiving a frosty reception. 
> 
> Thank you again for reading, leaving kudos and comments. They really make my day. See you after I return from vacation.


	5. St. Petersburg The Visit (Part 3) Viktor/Yuuri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor and Yuuri have one-on-one time plus Makka love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments and kudos last chapter. Wow!! So nice! Here's the last part of the Russia visit. A bit on the short side but wanted to get this posted so you could read. My dog is ill (recently diagnosed with cancer) so focusing time on his care.

**Viktor**

Viktor was up early despite staying up late into the night with Chris. They hadn’t had much time to catch up during the season, so they’d chatted for hours before reluctantly saying good night. Used to Yakov’s early morning practices, Viktor was wide awake while Chris still slumbered in the guest room.  Viktor donned a track suit and downed an energy bar and some water before taking Makka for a light jog.

He enjoyed these quiet, early morning runs with Makka. The rink could be loud and distracting at times, often drowning out his own busy thoughts. He’d gotten some of his best program ideas on mornings like this. He wasn’t thinking about his skates today – no his thoughts were all jumbled with excitement. He was going to spend time with his idol without his team. Alone with Yuuri, showing him what he was capable of. A chance to win him over as coach. Eleven-year-old him would have fainted! To be honest 17-year-old him was practically swooning!

He paused at the entrance of the small park next to the rink and released Makka from his leash, only to instantly regret it. Makka sped away straight towards a lone figure in the distance.

“Nyet! Makka, nyet!” Viktor raced after him, watching in dismay when his dog leaped onto the person, knocking them flat on the ground.  Viktor gasped. When he reached them, Makka’s paws were firmly planted on the person’s chest, preventing them from getting up. Viktor pulled his dog off the poor soul and knelt. His horror ratching up a thousand percent as he stared into the dazed eyes of Katsuki Yuuri before those same eyes fluttered shut, the Japanese man gasping for air.

“Coach Yuuri! Oh my god, are you all right?” Viktor gently ran his hands over the older skater’s head and torso, searching for injuries.

“I’m okay. Just got the wind knocked out of me,” Yuuri rasped.

Viktor realized his hands were still pawing his idol and snatched them to his chest. “I’m so sorry. I would happily skate naked while you pelt me with rotten produce but please don’t put Makkachin in doggie prison!” Viktor wailed, his hands flailing about.

“I don’t know. Can I yell shame while I do it?”

“Yes, absolutely.” Viktor said before he caught the gleam in Yuuri’s eyes and the faint smile. Oh, was he teasing him?

Viktor leaned back so he wasn’t hovering over him, and Yuuri sat up. “Don’t worry, Makka’s my friend. I’d never put him in doggie prison.”

“Oh, wow. Thank you! Makka really likes you too.”

Makka leaned against Yuuri and licked his face, knocking his glasses off.

“Makka, no! Bad dog!” Viktor grabbed the older skater’s glasses off the ground while Yuuri laughed and scratched Makka’s ears. His dog sighed with joy and flipped over for tummy rubs. Yuuri cooed at him and called him the best boy. Viktor blushed, which was just ridiculous.

 He stood and offered his hand, which Yuuri easily accepted. The older skater’s grip was strong, and Viktor’s stomach did a little flip.  Standing close together, Viktor could see the gold flecks in Yuuri’s beautiful brown eyes. Eyes focused solely on him, Viktor’s brain short circuited.

“Viktor?”

“Um, yes Coach Yuuri?”

A grin tugged at the corner of Yuuri’s mouth as he held out his hand, palm up. “May I have my glasses back? I really do need them to see.”

“Oh, oh. Yes of course, silly me. Here you go.” Viktor gently deposited them into Yuuri’s hand, shivering a little as their skin touched.

Yuuri put them on. “It’s cold out here, we should probably go.”

“There’s a café just around the corner. Let me buy you a coffee or tea, it’s the least I could do.”

Yuuri pondered this for a moment and nodded. “Lead the way.”

They walked with Makka between them.

Yuuri looked at Makka with affection. “It’s so nice petting a dog again. I haven’t seen Hanachan in two years.”

Viktor stared at him in surprise. “You didn’t return to Japan after – “

Yuuri shook his head. “My home town is very small and doesn’t have the medical services I needed. Besides the insurance only covered care in the U.S.” Yuuri shrugged. “My family runs a business. I would have gotten in the way, so I decided to stay in Detroit. I’d like to visit Japan sometime this summer though.”

They entered the café. The staff knew Viktor and Makka and greeted them warmly. After they each got tea and a doggie treat for Makkachin, they sat at a small table near the window. Makka happily curled at their feet.

“Why were you in the park by yourself?”

“Oh, Yakov had some paperwork to do so I decided to take a walk. The park was so pretty, and I promised Phichit I’d take some pictures while I’m here.”

Oh, yes. Phichit, the Thai skater. Viktor narrowed his eyes. Was he a barrier to Yuuri becoming his coach?  He schooled his expression, smoothing it a slightly inquisitive yet bland look.

“Do you have feelings for Phichit? Is he your lover?”

Yuuri’s eyes bugged out a bit as he choked his tea. His face turned a little red as he coughed into his hand. “What, no! We’re friends. Roommates.” Yuuri took a breath. “He’s like a little brother to me.”

“I see.”

“Um, tell me about you, Viktor.”

Viktor spoke at length of his love for skating and his ideas for music and choreography this year. How he wanted to master the quad flip. Yuuri listened intently and asked questions which surprised Viktor with their depth. The coach was truly interested in knowing Viktor’s thoughts. It was a refreshing change from Yakov’s typical impatience.

He detailed his training routine, but on and off the ice and the amount of time needed with his tutor and studies.

“What about ballet?” Yuuri asked.

Viktor shrugged, tugging at his ponytail. “I used to train with Lilia but things have been… strained lately.”

“Would you be willing to add it back with my guidance?”

Viktor nodded. “I’d like that. My growth spurt has affected my flexibility. It’s harder to do a Biellmann.”

“We can work on that. What do you do for fun?”

“Fun?” Viktor didn’t really think about anything but skating. It was his life…

“Yeah, do you have any interests? Hobbies?”

Viktor considered for a moment. “I like to read and spend time with Makka. Sometimes we walk on the beach. That’s nice. I don’t have a boyfriend. Chris was my first lover, but we’re mostly just friends now, and then there was Alexi…”

“Oh, wow, look at the time, I should probably get back to the rink. Yakov’s probably wondering where I am.”

“All right, Yuuri, I’ll take Makka home and see you soon.”

“That sounds great. And thanks for the tea.” Yuuri hastily stood, his cheeks flushed pink.

“Thank you for not putting Makka in doggie prison.”

“Oh, um, you’re welcome. See you soon.”

 

Viktor was soon at the rink, completing his stretches and then doing warm-up laps.  Sufficiently warmed-up, Yuuri put him through his paces with jumps, spins, and his step sequences. With his permission, Yuuri recorded and reviewed some of the practice, patiently pointing out areas where Viktor could improve. His attention to detail was impressive.  Yuuri joined him on the ice, and they worked together for several hours, the older skater’s legendary stamina still evident. While Yuuri could no longer jump more than doubles, his takeoff and landing positions were very helpful to observe.  He made suggestions not demands. Viktor never felt defensive or badgered – they worked well together. Like a … team.

They broke for lunch with Yuuri joining Yakov in his office and Viktor nibbling on a sandwich in the cafeteria, his leg bouncing nervously as he waited. Would Yuuri be his new coach? After he ate, he walked to Yakov’s office, his heart in his throat.

At the open door, he peered into Yakov’s office. His coach waved him in, and Viktor sat next to Yuuri.  Yakov rose and said, “I’ll let you two talk.” 

Viktor blinked as his coach left the office before turning to Yuuri. “Are you my new coach?”

“Yakov offered me the position, but I haven’t accepted it yet.”

“Why not? Is it Yura, I promise he’s not that bad. He’ll grow on you, I promise.”

Yuuri laughed. “No, it’s not Yura. My decision depends on you.”

“On me?”

“Yes, I need your approval before I can accept. It’s important this is what you want not just what Yakov decides.”

“Oh.” Viktor was stunned. He wasn’t expecting this choice. That most coaches wouldn’t bother thinking about his opinions.

Yuuri fidgeted. “Um, I know I’m still a new coach. Maybe you’d like to talk to Celestino or Phichit…”

“No.”

Yuuri winced. “No?”

“That’s not necessary. I already know. Be my coach, Yuuri!” Viktor leaned over and hugged him for good measure.

Yuuri gave a short laugh, awkwardly patting Viktor’s back. “Okay. Let’s win gold together.”

“Okay!” Viktor released him.

“Oh, one more thing. Yakov thought I could stay with you for a while until I got used to the area and learn enough Russian to get around.”

“That’s perfect! I’ve never had a roommate before. We can have sleepovers, watch movies, and I can teach you how to braid my hair!”

“I, um, can already do that?”

Viktor clenched his hands together. “Really?”

Yuuri nodded. “I used to help my older sister Mari with her hair.”

Viktor grinned. This was one of the best days of his life.

* * *

 

**Yuuri**

 

“He straight up asked me if we were lovers. I was so embarrassed I wanted to die!”

Phichit laughed. “Baby Russian is bold. I like it.”

“He’s only three years younger than you.”

“It’s all about the mileage, not the years.”

“He tried to tell me about his love life until I changed the subject.”

“Poor Yuuri.”

“Oh, shut up. And that’s Coach Yuuri to you. I have a signed contract and everything.”

Phichit cheered. “Did Yakov add that condition you wanted?”

“I didn’t really give him a choice.” Yuuri didn’t want to argue with his friend and continued on. “The team gave me a nice card which they all signed and a really nice skater’s jacket. It’s navy with the Russia flag on one sleeve and the coat of arms on the other. And on the back, it says ‘coach’ in Cyrillic. Yakov said since I’m on the ice so much, it seemed fitting and the team agreed. I honest to god teared up, Phi. They are so nice.”

Phichit cooed. “Oh, that’s so sweet. You know what we’re going to do as soon as you get home?”

“Eat all the Swiss chocolate Chris promised to ship me?”

“Oh!! Well, the second thing we’re going to do is take you shopping. You need coach wear, especially some suits.”

“What, no Phichit! I already have a suit.”

“Yuuri, you can’t wear that suit. It has the JSF emblem on it and we’re burning that tie while we’re at it.”

“But I love that tie!”

“Nope, you need to step up your game, Coach Yuuri, and I’m just the person to get you there.”

Yuuri sighed. “Fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we'll have some drama when Viktor overhears a conversation about Yuuri's contract, etc. and gives Yuuri an icy reception when he returns to Russia. Not too angsty though.


	6. A Sudden Cold Front (Viktor/Yurri)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor jumps to conclusions. Yura is feisty. Yuuri is confused and wonders if he made a mistake. It all works out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and leaving comments. Over 150 kudos! Wow! I appreciate your support. It was a really tough week for me - lost my dog to cancer. Writing helped.
> 
> Year one’s skating season is based off this year’s schedule except for the Olympics. In this fic, Viktor’s first Olympics will be in year two.  
> I’m not an expert in figure skating but have watched all the JGP, Challenger, and GP events this season in addition to reading analysis, doing research, etc. I’ve also been a casual figure skating fan for many years. YOI inspired my greater love of the sport.

**Viktor**

After Yuuri returned to Detroit and Chris to Switzerland, Viktor focused on two things – practice and getting his apartment ready for his soon-to-be roommate.

He tackled the guestroom closet where he’d stored his old skating costumes. He spent an entire afternoon reliving his skating highs and lows as he carefully packed them in a few trunks. He chuckled at some of the questionable choices he’d insisted on for some of his junior costumes. Now that he was older, he realized Yakov that put up with a lot. He touched the blue silk shirt he’d worn during his senior debut. The costume and free skate routine were a dedication to Yuuri. Viktor’s heart ached a little remembering that turbulent time. The joy of his success muted by sadness and worry for the other skater. He placed the shirt in the open trunk and gave it a little pat, finding closure in the small act.

A few days later Mila helped him paint the guestroom the lovely light blue he’d selected. Blue was Yuuri’s favorite color and he added other touches of blue such as a new sofa and a vase on the bookshelf to make it more like home for his new coach.  He hadn’t realized how sterile his home was until viewing it from a stranger’s perspective. He’d been so busy with the last season, it was exciting to add these touches. He hung a print of a ballerina and placed a set of festive Matryoshka nesting dolls on the table.

“There! What do you think, Makka?” Viktor leaned back on the sofa, surveying the surrounding space with a critical eye while absentmindedly twirling a thick strand of hair around his finger.

“Boof!”

“Really? Don’t you think a bust would be overdoing it?”

Makka wagged his tail. 

“If you insist, but only for our room, okay?”

The large dog licked his face.

Viktor giggled. “Makka!”

He bounced excitedly with the arrival of each box from Detroit, which he carefully placed in Yuuri’s room. Yuuri’s room!!! How could he be so lucky! He smirked. Chris was _sooo_ jealous. This was even better than Chris attending _Stéphane Lambiel’s_ skating camp last summer. Viktor was dying to know what each box contained but left them alone. He couldn’t pry into Yuuri’s things no matter how curious he was. Makkachin was just as interested as he was and scratched at one of the boxes before whining in confusion.

Viktor laughed. “Does it smell like, Yuuri? Do you miss him, Makka?” Viktor squished his poodle’s cheeks. “Don’t you worry, he’ll be here in a few days.”

Yakov and the RSF had pulled some strings to get Yuuri’s visa fast-tracked. They’d been in frequent communication over the last three weeks – Viktor sending him practice video and having Skype calls, but it was nothing like him being here in person.

The other exciting news was the Grand Prix assignments were announced. Viktor had Rostelecom Cup and the Internationaux de France this year.  He didn’t share any qualifiers with Chris, but they were both slotted to skate for the Nebelhorn Trophy, an ISU challenger event. The final was being held in Nagoya, Japan. Viktor took this as a good sign. He would work hard and place, so he and Yuuri could explore Japan together. Wouldn’t that be divine!

 

Viktor could hardly focus on practice. He hurriedly left the ice to ask Yakov about Yuuri’s arrival time the next day. Viktor had forgotten to write it down, and didn’t want to be late. Before he rounded the corner, he heard Yakov and Lilia talking. What was she doing here again? He leaned against the wall out of sight, pushed his hair behind his ear, and listened.

“Do you really expect him to take care of Vitya?” Lilia’s tone was disapproving.

“I’m worried about him being on his own. He’s not eating right. Yuuri can help him.”

Viktor puffed up. He was not a child. He was perfectly capable taking care of himself. He’d been living on his own for months without any major issues – well, except for that one time he almost burned down his kitchen…

“Why did you add that ridiculous clause to his contract? The compensation is unacceptable.” Lilia sneered.

Yakov huffed. “I didn’t have a choice, Lilia. Katsuki wouldn’t sign without it.”

“Your negotiation skills are pathetic. You have one year to fix –“

“Hey, why are you sneaking around?” A voice said behind him.

Viktor whipped around to find Yura standing there. The boy was as light on his feet as the cats he adored.  Yura opened his mouth to say something else, and Viktor quickly clamped his hand over it, muffling his words.

“Shhh!” He tilted his head trying to hear Yakov and Lilia. He yelped in pain as Yura chomped on his thumb with sharp teeth. He immediately released the younger skater.

“You bit me!”

“Keep your hands off me, asshole!” Yura shouted.

“Vitya! Yura! Stop fooling around. It’s time to go home.” Yakov growled.

Shit.

“Yes, coach,” they said, and Yura glared daggers at Viktor before storming off. 

Upset by what he’d heard, Viktor left without another word to Yakov.

That night Viktor stewed over what he’d heard. He didn’t need someone to watch over him. He was strong. He didn’t need anyone. He and Makka were just fine.

Makka whined as he dashed his tears away in frustration. He curled up on his side, stroking Makka’s fur as he thought about the rest of what he’d heard. Lilia had been angry with Yuuri’s contract while Yakov was resigned. How much had Yuuri insisted on receiving? Never in a million years would Viktor have thought Yuuri could be so mercenary but maybe the accident had changed things. His sponsors were long gone, and medical bills could be expensive.

Another thought struck him, and he gasped out in pain as his chest constricted tightly. What if Yuuri only agreed to coach him for the money? Viktor had very quickly learned that most people wanted something from him. Pretended they wanted to be his friend when their sole purpose was using him for fame or fortune. Was that all he was to Yuuri, a meal ticket? A way back into the spotlight now that his career was over?

Viktor could be gullible at times, but had gained experience in dealing with such people. Yakov felt Yuuri would be good for his skating. He would be polite and learn from the older skater, but nothing more. He would protect his heart and not allow Yuuri to use him. He pulled Makka close as tears streaked down his face. He was stronger on his own.

 

* * *

 

**Yuuri**

 

It was downright frigid when he arrived in Russia, and it had nothing to do with the weather. Something had changed with Viktor. Gone were the smiles and hugs. The young skater held himself aloof, barely looking at Yuuri and only speaking to him when necessary. Viktor was polite but treated Yuuri like a stranger. A stranger he would rather not be dealing with.

Yuuri told himself to stop internalizing. He was tired from the long flight and maybe the Russian was dealing with something completely unrelated to Yuuri. His studies or maybe boy troubles or he was just angsty. Yuuri’s moods had been all over the place when he was seventeen.

“Here is your room. We share a bathroom down the hall.”

“Thank you.”

Viktor gave a curt nod before leaving Yuuri to his own devices. He sent a quick text to Phichit letting him know he’d arrived safely and promised to call later.  He looked around. It was a nice room. He sat on unmade bed and stared at the wall for a moment, allowing the gentle blue color to calm him. 

He dug through the boxes, unearthing his pillow and bedding. He made up the bed before crashing. Too tired to think about eating or anything else.

He woke hours later, cotton-headed and sore. Damn it, he’d forgotten to stretch. He rubbed gingerly at his hip before rolling it carefully.  The car had shattered his hip and broken his leg in three places in addition to back injuries. Thankfully the swelling around his spinal cord had only been temporary, and the doctors patched him up with a hip replacement and pins in his leg to support the bones. Months of painful physical therapy had gotten him out of a wheelchair and past a walker and cane. There had been times when he’d wanted to give up. Days when it hurt too damn much. With Phichit’s help he’d been able to push through them.

He limped to the bathroom and then entered main living area. Viktor was stretched out on the sofa, a book in hand with Makka sprawled across his legs. Viktor looked up briefly, his pale eyes icy. “There’s food in the refrigerator. Help yourself,” the young Russian said before returning to his reading.

“Thank you.”

Yuuri slowly made his way to the kitchen and rummaged around the fridge. He heated up some soup in the microwave before sitting at the small table to eat. He rubbed at his hip and started as something wet swiped his hand.  Gazing down, he saw Makka sitting next to him with a doggie grin, tail wagging. At least someone still liked him.

Yuuri cooed at him, giving him pets. Viktor made a grumpy sound, shifting on the sofa and Makka bounded back to him. Yuuri continued to eat in silence. Eventually the younger skater excused himself for the night, mentioning early practice.

Yuuri quietly padded around the apartment before going through his stretching routine. He hadn’t felt this uncomfortable in a new space since he’d first moved to Detroit. He thought about calling Phichit but decided to hold off. He knew his observant friend would pick up on his low mood, and he didn’t want to talk about it yet.  He curled up on his bed and watched videos of Hanachan before he went to sleep.

 

 _Metal impacted flesh, and Yuuri screamed in pain._ _He lay crumpled on the ground, moaning._

_“Oh, my god, Yuuri! The ambulance is coming. Don’t you dare die on me! I’ll never forgive you.”_

_“Phi –“_  

 

Yuuri woke with a start, sweating with his blanket and sheet wrapped tightly around him. He gasped, sucking air into his starved lungs. He heard a whine and realized it wasn’t coming from him. Makka peered up at him from the side of the bed. Yuuri gave him a little smile. “I’m okay, boy.”

Makka jumped onto the bed and settled next to him. Yuuri wrapped an arm around him and gave the dog a kiss on the top of his head. “Thank you, Makka.”  A tear slid down Yuuri’s cheek. He slept without issue the rest of the night and when he woke the next morning, Makka was gone.

 

Things remained tense for the next few days. Viktor was the definition of polite but distant. His rinkmates watched him with confusion, and Yakov looked displeased but didn’t question his pupil’s demeanor. The pressure was getting to Yuuri, and his nerves were shot. He beginning to wonder if coming to Russia had been a mistake. It all came to a head when Viktor started ignoring Yuuri on the ice. It was as if he wasn’t even there. Once they had returned to the apartment. Yuuri took a seat next to Vicktor and said.

“We need to talk.”

“About what?”

“There’s something going on. Is it because I’m living here? I can find somewhere else to stay if it’s too much.”

“I have no problems with you being here,” the Russian skater’s tone implied the exact opposite.

Yuuri sighed. “We can’t work together if we’re not honest each other. Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

Viktor snorted. “Honesty. That’s rich coming from you.”

Yuuri grimaced at the venom in his voice. “What does that mean?”

Viktor flung his book onto the floor with a huff. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

Yuuri leaned back. “Well that’s good because I suck at babysitting. My friend Yuuko asked me to watch her kids one time, and they destroyed the house in ten minutes. I was never asked again.”

“Really?” A hint of Viktor’s bright personality shone through before he scowled again. “Lilia and Yakov were angry about your contract. How much money did you insist on for coaching me? Is money all you care about?”

Yuuri blinked in confusion. “I don’t understand. I was very clear with Yakov that I wasn’t charging coaching fees. It’s in the contract.” He thumbed through his phone, pulling up the electronic copy before handing the phone to Viktor.

The young Russian read the document slowly before staring up at Yuuri. “You’re only receiving room and board and traveling expenses?”

Yuuri nodded. “I’m such a new coach, I felt I needed to prove myself before charging a fee.”

Viktor frowned, his eyebrows furrowed. “I’m sorry. I jumped to conclusions.”

“It happens. Viktor, we’re still getting to know each other, so it’s important that we’re honest with each other. If something’s bothering you, let me know. We’ll work it out.”

“Da?”

Yuuri nodded. “I don’t want to be your babysitter, and you don’t need one. I do want to be your coach, and I think one day we could even be friends.”

“I’d like that.”

“Good.”

 

The mood was noticeably lighter at the rink the next day at least until Viktor commandeered the sound system. He was still undecided on his free skate music, running through the same songs over and over.

“Oi, Viktor, this music sucks.” Yura yelled, irritated after the songs rotated through the speakers again.

“But Yura, I need to surprise the audience,” Viktor whined.

Yura snorted. “The only surprise will be if they stay awake, stupid.” He stuck his tongue out and gave a thumbs down as the next song started. “Why did you have to pick dreams as your theme this year? Like fairy tales wasn’t bad enough last year.”

The two continued to bicker, and Yakov got progressively redder. 

“Coach, may I borrow the sound system? I might have something that works,” Yuuri said.

Yakov grunted in assent, and Georgi helped him set up the song.

The melodic sound drifted around the rink, and both Viktor and Yura stopped yelling to listen. The orchestra built full out and then the guitars rang out before the song gentled again.

“This music. What is it?” Yura asked, wonder on his face.

“It’s an older song. Silent Lucidity by Queensryche.”

“I know that song. It didn’t sound like this before,” Georgi said.

Yuuri fiddled with his hands, suddenly not sure if this was a good idea. “Oh, um I created a remix. The song is too long for the free skate, and I wanted the edgier rock opera part to come sooner.”

“It’s fucking awesome. I should skate to it.” Yura sneered at Viktor. “It’s too good for you, Legolas.”

“Yura! My Yuuri picked it for me. Get your own music!”

“Vitya! Yura! Shut up and start skating!” Yakov yelled. He patted Yuuri on the shoulder. “You did good.”

Yuuri smiled. Maybe this wasn’t a mistake after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In canon, Viktor has most of his music commissioned, but I figured it’d be better if we could envision his songs over the years so using real songs for the most part.
> 
> Next chapter we’ll have more of Lilia and Yuuri as we branch into the ballet studio.


	7. From Russia with Love (Lilia/Viktor/Yuuri)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Lilia! Viktor adjusts to life with a roommate – it’s both heaven and hell. Chris gets the best non-birthday, birthday present ever. Makkachin is the best boy. Yuuri schools some hockey players that you don’t mess with his skaters. Things get lost in translation with the ‘help’ of little Yura.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the reads, kudos, and comments! 
> 
> My thoughts are with Yuzuru Hanyu as he recovers from his ankle injury. May he be healthy for the Olympics!

**Lilia**

Lilia was already prima of the Bolshoi Ballet when she was asked to host a visiting Japanese ballerina for a year. She accepted not expecting to find a life-long friend. Minako shared her dedication to ballet. The constant drive to push one’s limits to achieve true beauty with the strength of their spirits and bodies. When they weren’t practicing and performing, Mina had been a fun roommate, getting Lilia out of the tiny apartment and exploring Moscow. Surprisingly, the younger ballerina was a bit of a party animal, able to out drink and out curse many Russians. Lilia smiled remembering some of the scrapes she’d rescued Mina from.

When the year was over, Mina had won the Benois de la Danse and was off touring the world. She eventually returned to Japan to open a dance studio. Lilia fell in love with Yakov and retired from the Bolshoi to follow him to St. Petersburg. Yakov had been eager to start a family but they were not able to conceive. Yakov became distant, and Lilia threw herself into running her own studio, secretly feeling she’d failed her husband.

Throughout the years Mina had been there to hear her hopes and dreams as well as her fears. The emails and calls brightened Lilia’s days. One of their favorite topics were their students. Mina told her of the three-year-old boy who’d sat in his mother’s lap while his older sister attended class. At the end, the little one demanded lessons, as well. The little boy’s persistence paid off, and he was allowed to attend, diligently copying the girls as they stretched and went through the basics. Mina had shared pictures and videos of the boy – Yuuri – and the way Mina spoke of him you’d have thought he was her own son. It was bittersweet seeing the tiny boy with round cheeks and chubby little tummy earnestly practicing his basics. His eyes so serious like an old soul wrapped in an adorable little body. It made Lilia long for a little danseur or ballerina of her own.

Yuuri continued to dance long after his sister grew bored and quit. Although the boy now split his time between ballet and skating, something she and Mina had discussed long and hard about before Mina had suggested it to the boy. Mina asked for advice regarding stage fright and proudly shared how Yuuri performed in his dance recitals and later competitions as well as his progress as a skater.

Around the time Vitya came to live with Yakov and her, Mina was struggling with saying goodbye to Yuuri who was off to America of all places to further his skating career. Poor Mina was heartbroken to see her little danseur go but at the same time so proud.

Suddenly becoming a mother figure had not been an easy transition for Lilia. She truly cared for Vitya but often argued with Yakov on how indulgent he was with of the boy.  She hated being the ‘bad guy’ while Yakov seemed to allow the boy’s every whim. Fortunately, Vitya was a good boy for the most part, although prone to forgetfulness, flightiness, and arrogance. Yakov praised how diligently Vitya practiced his skating, but he goofed around during ballet lessons which irked Lilia to no end. For ballet to be seen as a means to an end rather than for the beauty that it was. Minako had fared better with Yuuri who despite climbing up the junior and senior ranks, still found time to dance because it brought him joy.

Lilia was amused to find Vitya so fascinated with Yuuri. She never spoke of her connection to him, knowing she’d never hear the end of his badgering for signed items and the like. Knowing Vitya, he would have demanded his contact information. That boy! 

When Yuuri was injured Lilia had never seen Vitya so distressed, not even when he’d been abandoned by his family. He’d been so young back then and was more confused than heartbroken, quickly accepting Yakov and her as his new family. Yakov refused to share the conditions he’d found the boy in, saying he would spare Lilia the nightmares. For all his drama, Vitya was not one for crying but for Yuuri he cried two days straight. Lilia worried they would have to take him to the doctor if he didn’t stop. Vitya pulled himself together but was quieter for the next several months.

Mina was devastated, and Lilia was just as much as a loss to help her as she was for Vitya. As Yuuri began to heal, Mina often vented to Lilia of the care he was receiving. “The physical therapy isn’t enough. His muscles will continue to atrophy and he’ll loss flexibility permanently if something isn’t done.”

After tossing and turning that night. Lilia had a solution. One that Minako embraced. They designed exercises throughout Yuuri’s recovery to augment his PT, allowing Yuuri to regain mobility much faster than the supposed experts expected. They continued to work together adjusting the exercises until they finally designed a ‘maintenance’ stretching program he was to do twice daily in addition to other strength building exercise. During this time, Lilia often spoke with Yuuri or exchange emails. She found his fighting sprint heartening and encouraged him the best she could. She knew his battle was difficult and each success was hard won. Away from the bright lights and crowds of the fickle skating world, he overcame huge physical obstacles to become something new and beautiful.

Lilia had been surprised when Yuuri chose to stay in Detroit rather than returning to Japan. Mina said he was coaching. By then Lilia and Yakov were barely speaking, and Lilia communicated less with Mina as she dealt with ending of her marriage.  When Mina called to say Yuuri was coming to Russia was surprising to say the least. When Yakov had tried to explain his notion of ‘friend coach,’ she’d thought he was crazy and worried he would take advantage of Yuuri but now she wasn’t so sure. 

She glanced up from the paperwork she was pretending to be reading to watch the unlikely pair stretch, lost in their own world. When they had arrived Vitya had sauntered in like he owned the place while Yuuri paused at the doorway and bowed before quietly following his charge.

Yuuri corrected Vitya’s sloppy stretching techniques while the younger boy yammered on. Really that boy was a disgrace to her teaching! The older skater listened patiently with a fond expression on his face.

Yuuri put Vitya through his paces. Vitya was the most focused she’d ever seen, appearing to hang on Yuuri’s every word. Yuuri had the makings of an excellent teacher – he was calm yet firm. His instruction was clear and sound.  When Vitya dramatically flopped onto the floor saying he was dying, Yuuri gently coaxed more out of him. Pushing him farther than the boy thought he could without pushing too far. Vitya was both exhausted and beaming with happiness by the end of their session.

Lilia had never seen such a different pair, but they worked. Maybe this is where she had gone wrong with Vitya – trying to mold him into what she’d wanted him to be instead of accepting him. Allowing him to grow but being there to guide him. Perhaps Yakov wasn’t so foolish after all.

Lilia stood as they approached.  “You have a lot of work to do, Vitya. Do not embarrass your new coach.”

Vitya smiled his first real smile for her in months. He kissed her cheek. “It’s good to be back, Liliya.”

She touched her cheek as Yuuri quietly thanked her and the two left.

 

* * *

**Viktor**

Having a roommate took some getting used to, but Viktor really liked having Yuuri living at the apartment with him. Over the first few weeks they made adjustments – Yuuri was teaching Viktor how to cook, and they both split up house cleaning chores. Viktor still slept in the nude but made sure he was clothed outside of his room, something he’d gotten lax about when he was living alone.

One of his favorite times was coming home after his late afternoon lessons with his tutor. Makkachin and the tantalizing smell of dinner would greet him as he came through the door. He placed his shoes next to Yuuri’s by the door and called out “Tadaima.” Having someone to say he was home to gave him a warm, fuzzy feeling.

Usually Yuuri greeted him with welcome home “Okaerinasai” but he surprised Viktor one day saying in Russian “Welcome home, giant forehead.”

Viktor had blinked at him, and Yuuri fidgeted. “Oh, um. Did I say it wrong? Yura’s been teaching me Russian after practice.”

“You said it just as he taught you but how about we stick with Japanese? I like it.” Viktor would have to talk to Yura about his secret Russian lessons with Yuuri….

Yuuri smiled. “Really?”

“Da.”

“Hai.” Yuuri corrected with a smile.

“Hai.” Viktor returned before helping Yuuri. Cooking was actually fun and not that hard. The main thing he learned was he couldn’t wander off while food was cooking as he often forgot until the smell of burning food and the beeping smoke detector reminded him.

While Viktor was a morning person, Yuuri was a night owl. Viktor quickly learned to not attempt conversation until his coach had consumed caffeine. Their first rest day Yuuri must have stayed up well into the night as he slept in until lunchtime.

Viktor had been facetiming Chris when Yuuri had emerged his hair squashed flat on one side of his head while hair was wildly sticking up on the top. The Japanese blurrily rubbed one eye with one hand while scratching at his stomach with the other. So adorable. Viktor turned his phone so Chris could see Yuuri. “Yuuurrri, say hi to Chris,” he chirped.

Yuuri shuffled over to the sofa and squinted at the phone since he’d forgotten his glasses. And went from adorable to hot damn in thirty seconds.

“Ohayou.” he muttered, and Chris gave a breathy hello.

Viktor smirked before staring at the rather familiar shirt Yuuri was wearing. “Yuuri, where did you get that shirt?”

Yuuri stared at him blankly for a moment before vaguely gesturing towards the guest room -Yuuri’s room- and saying something in Japanese. He paused and crinkled up his nose. So precious! His face cleared and he said “Basket?”

“Oh, our laundry must have gotten mixed together. That’s my shirt.”

Yuuri looked down confused but then proceeded to grab the bottom of the shirt and pulled it up, making to take it off. Lord, he was beautiful. Chris must have agreed because he gasped.

“Oh, no. It’s fine if you borrow it, Yuuri. I don’t mind.” Curse Chris for his chuckle.

Yuuri merely dropped the bottom of the shirt with a small smile, patted Viktor on the head a few times before shuffling into the kitchen. Viktor had repositioned the phone so his own face was visible again until he looked over to the kitchen. His eyes bugged out some.

“Happy Birthday, Chris,” he whispered in French.

“But it’s not my birthday…” Chris said which was cut off in a happy sigh as Viktor trained the phone on Yuuri again, his fabulous butt and thighs encased in tight sleep shorts on display as he bent to hunt around in the refrigerator.

“You are one lucky bastard.” Chris said and hung up.

 

Makkachin was getting used to having a new human in the apartment too. Sometimes Viktor would wake up to find his dog gone. He soon realized Makka was ditching him to stay with Yuuri. Worried his pet was being a pest, Viktor started closing his door at night to stop Makka’s late night roaming. One night Makka woke him whining.

“What is it, boy?” Viktor sat up.

Makka jumped off the bed and ran to the door, scratching at it and whined again.

Viktor barely remembered to pull on some track pants before he opened the door. Makka walked to Yuuri’s room and scratched at the partially open door. Viktor grabbed his collar to prevent him from entering. Listening he heard moaning. His cheeks and ears burned as he heard the erotic sounds coming from the older man.

“Phichit,” Yuuri groaned and a complex set of emotions flooded Viktor. Heat, embarrassment, and jealousy. Was Phichit Yuuri’s love after all? Viktor’s emotions quickly shifted when Yuuri whimpered, a sound of pain and not pleasure.

Makka pushed his head against his thigh and whined. Viktor released his dog who quickly pushed the door open and climbed up on the bed. Yuuri was star fished out on the bed, panting with sweat glistening on his face. Makka licked his hand and Yuuri folded himself around the dog with a sigh, his breath evening out as he slept.

Viktor whispered in Russian. “Stay with Yuuri, Makka. Good boy.” He returned to his own bed, sobered by the thought of Yuuri having nightmares.

The next morning Vitya took Makka for a quick walk and stopped by the café to get tea and bilini for Yuuri. He knew his coach would be tired after his rough night and having a good breakfast and his beloved caffeine should help. Yuuri still wasn’t up when he returned home. He poked his head into Yuuri’s room. “Yuuuurri! I have breakfast for you!”

Yuuri was completed covered by blankets only his dark hair was visible. Viktor approached with a plate of bilini and tea “Yuuri!”

He had a trick for waking Yura when he stayed over maybe it would work for his coach - he folded the bilini and held it in his hand where he approximated Yuuri’s nose to be under the blankets. He waved the food around. “Yummy yummy if you wake up, Yuuri!”

That earned him a grunt and Yuuri’s face fully appeared, his eyes still closed. Viktor waved the bilini around again. “I’ll just leave this on the nightstand for you – oh!”

Yuuri had grasped his wrist before he could move the food away and taken a bite. He chewed and groaned. He opened his eyes, piercing Viktor with his dark eyes. So dangerous to Viktor’s young heart!

“Oh, I think I have a nose bleed. Enjoy!” Viktor hastily placed the bilini on the plate and gestured to the tea. “There’s tea too.” He booked it toward the door.

“Viktor?”

He paused and looked over his shoulder at Yuuri who was now sitting up, plate in hand. “Thank you.”

Viktor smiled. “You’re welcome.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Yuuri**

 

Once the misunderstanding about his contract was cleared up, he and Viktor were finding a nice balance together. The teen worked hard at practice and was eager to learn. They’d established a routine both on and off the ice and were making adjustments as they went.

Viktor was really cheerful in the morning, and Yuuri had to be careful not to growl. It wasn’t the Russian’s fault they had different preferences. If anything, Viktor was very accommodating, often making Yuuri tea to help him start his day. Yuuri liked making dinner for Viktor knowing he’d be tired from a long day of training and his studies. They went shopping together and Yuuri had started teaching him how to prepare basic, healthy dishes. Making batches so portions could be frozen for later consumption.

Yuuri was still getting used to the area. He’d gotten on a wrong bus and ended up on the other end of St. Petersburg. Georgi came and got him while Yura ribbed him. The youngest member of the team was helping him learn Russian, so Yuuri was grateful. Really the whole team was wonderful making him feel included. It made the new city not feel so foreign.

Viktor reminded him a bit of Phichit. It had taken a while to get used to Phichit’s hugs, and Viktor seemed to be made of the same cloth. He seemed to ground himself with a quick touch to Yuuri’s shoulder or with a brief hug. Seeing the positive affect it had on his student, Yuuri would also pat his shoulder, back, or hand briefly.

 

One day Yuuri had just finished speaking with Yakov and was approaching the rink. Two large bearded men in hockey jerseys were pushing little Yura back and forth. The boy looked tiny compared to the giants.

“Stop, assholes.” Yura growled in Russian as Yuuri ran up.

He grasped Yura, pulling him behind him protectively before facing the mountains. He was out numbered and out sized but hell if he’d let anyone harass Yura.

One of the men scowled at Yuuri and growled something in Russian.

“He said you took his toy away from him.” Yura said in a small voice against his back.

“Tell him, I see no toy here. Only the Ice Tiger of Russia, future figure skating legend.” Yuuri said his eyes still locked on the man.

Yura translated for him, and the man laughed. The hockey player placed a large hand on Yuuri’s chest and gave him a clumsy push. Yuura grasped the man’s wrist and twisted it. He applied enough pressure for the man to fall to his knees gasping in pain. The other man gaped but didn’t make a move towards them.

Yuuri said, “Tell them if they so much as breathe near my students again, there will be consequences. That is a promise not a threat.”

Yura translated and the men nodded their heads. Yuuri released the man’s wrist and he got up, quickly walking away with his teammate. Yuuri turned, placing a hand on Yura’s shoulder which shook. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Whatever.” The teen huffed but didn’t protest when Yuuri gathered him into his arms for a hug. "Did you really mean what you said? About me being the Ice Tiger of Russia?"

"I did." 

A sudden weight landed on Yuuri’s back and the fact he recognized Viktor’s cologne and that his arms were still around Yura, were the only things keeping him from accidentally flipping Viktor over his shoulder – fight mode was still activated.

“Wow, Yuuri! That was amazing!”

Yura grumbled, and he released him.

Later Yakov took him aside. “I heard from the hockey coach. He apologized for his players' behavior and assured me there would be no issues in the future.” He looked at Yuuri down his nose. “I was surprised to hear you threatened to cut them with your knife shoes.”

Yuuri flushed. “What, no. Ah, there must have been a translation issue.”

Yakov eyed him. “I thought so.”

Phichit called when he was cooking dinner that night. “Coach Yuuri saving baby Russians from scary hockey bullies. My hero!”

“How do you know about it?”

“Phichit knows all.”

“I believe it. I’m no hero, I did what any one would do.”

“You keep telling yourself that, Yuuri. I know the truth.”

“Phichit – “

“How are you sleeping?”

“Okay, I guess. I’ve had some rough nights but not as many as I’d thought. Sometimes Makkachin stays with me, and that’s nice.”

Phichit cooed. “What a good dog.”

Yuuri nodded automatically even though Phichit couldn' see him. “He’s the best boy.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up - Yuuri's trip home. He decides to invite his new student.


	8. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri surprises Yakov.
> 
> Viktor’s extra, and I wouldn’t have him any other way.
> 
> Translation Yura strikes again. He has no regrets.
> 
> Off to Japan!!! Family and fun!
> 
> The boys break the internet #justjetlagged #katsudamn
> 
> Yura has impressive Photoshopping skills
> 
> Everyone gets cavities from baby Yuuri pictures
> 
> Viktor becomes the Katsuki Yuuri fan club’s MVP and Hasetsu’s unofficial tourism ambassador

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate! My tummy is very happy right now. :)  
> Thank you for reading, commenting, or leaving kudos (over 200!). Makes my day!  
> Longest chapter yet with more POV changes, but hopefully should be easy to catch with person’s name bolded at the top of each section.

**Yakov**

There was a quiet knock on the door frame, and Yakov glanced up to see Yuuri standing there, looking uncertain. He waved his hand for the Japanese man to enter. “Have a seat,” he said knowing the other man wouldn’t sit without the prompt. Well, at least he was polite. It was unnerving at times – the contrast between his skaters and Yuuri. He prayed the older skater’s manners would rub off on his pupils.

“What can I do for you?” Yakov asked.

Yuuri stared down at his hands, nervously poking his two index fingers together. “Uh, about my trip to Japan…” he started hesitantly and trailed off. He peeked at Yakov and then ducked his head again.

Ah, yes Yuuri’s trip was coming soon. But what had him so nervous? Did he want to stay longer than they’d agreed to? Yakov stiffened. Did he want to quit? Had Vitya pushed him over the edge? Yuuri seemed to have the patience of a saint, but even he had to have limits.

“Yes, yes spit it out,” Yakov grumbled. He’d rather receive the bad news quickly.

“Um, sorry. I was wondering if Viktor could come with me?”

“What?!” Yakov didn’t mean to yell but really? Yuuri wanted Vitya with him on his vacation? Did the Japanese man even know what vacations were intended for? Rest and relaxation did not include Viktor Nikiforov!

Yuuri flinched but his posture straightened, and his tone grew more confident as he continued. “I know that wasn’t agreed to before, but I think Viktor would benefit from some time away from St. Petersburg. He’s been working so hard, I think too hard at times. He can relax but also have plenty of practice time at the local rink. I know the owners….”

Two weeks away from Vitya.  Coach Yuuri was offering to take his student on vacation which would effectively be giving Yakov a kind of vacation.

“Yes.”

Yuuri blinked at him in surprise, clearly expecting the need to argue his case further.

“Vitya can go as long as he stays on top of his studying. I’ll speak to him about etiquette lessons too. Have him come to my office tomorrow before practice.”

“I will! Thank you, sir!” Yuuri bowed and practically ran out of his office.

Yakov mentally patted himself on the back for hiring Yuuri. This was working out even better than he’d imagined.

* * *

 

**Viktor**

Viktor set down his rough sketches for his costumes this year and returned to his science book. He’d have loved to spend the rest of the afternoon working on the designs, but he needed to focus on his studies. His memorization abilities were not good, so he needed extra time to absorb the learnings. He rubbed at an eye tiredly before blowing a large bubble with his gum. Makka gave him the side eye when it popped loudly. Viktor chewed vigorously, trying to focus. He really could use some coffee but Yakov strictly limited his caffeine intake. The big meanie. Maybe he’d just close his eyes for a minute or two, yeah that would help…

 

Viktor woke with a start. The smell of dinner was in the air. He sat up on the sofa and stretched. His back was not thanking him for the impromptu nap.

“Hey, sleepyhead. Dinner will be ready in about thirty minutes.” Yuuri smiled at him from the stove, stirring something delicious smelling in a large pot.

Viktor tried to finger comb his messy hair and encountered something sticky. Oh, no! He hadn’t meant to fall asleep and now his gum was stuck in his hair. And not just a small wad either – it was strung out over a sizable portion of his hair.  He pterodactyl screeched in distress.

“Viktor, what’s wrong?”

“I have gum in my hair! I’m going to have to cut it all off!”

“Oh, don’t worry. I can help you. No cutting needed.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Come sit here.” Yuuri patted a kitchen chair.  Viktor wilted in the chair while Yuuri turned down the burner.  Yuuri retrieved a small jar of creamy peanut butter from the cupboard and set it on the table before leaving and returning with a toothbrush and a hair tie. The older man separated the hair with gum from the rest with the tie and carefully spread the creamy peanut butter over affected part with the toothbrush. After letting it sit for a while, Yuuri used a cloth to remove the gum. 

“There, it’s all out. Go wash out the rest of the peanut butter and make sure to use lots of conditioner. The peanut butter removed the natural oil from your hair.”

Viktor was never so happy to reek of kindergarten lunch. “Amazing! How are you so smart, Yuuri?”

The other man shrugged. “Always had an industrial-sized jar in the pantry growing up. Good for removing the gum bullies loved to put in my hair and stress eating.”

Viktor gasped in outrage. “But you’re the hero of Japan! Who would dare put gum in your hair?” He wanted names, so he could fight them or burn them over the internet with extremely harsh words at the very least.

“Oh, I don’t know about that …. and at the time I was just a chubby kid who liked to skate and dance in sparkly outfits. Didn’t exactly win me a lot of friends.”

There must be a lot of idiots where Yuuri grew up because who would not want to be friends with such a wonderful person? There were very few pictures out there of Yuuri’s early years, but he was so sweet and adorable!

Viktor showered, dressed, and returned to the living room drying his hair with a fluffy towel.

 “I’ll comb it out for you otherwise it will get all tangled.” Yuuri said from the sofa.

“What about dinner?”

“It’ll keep, I have it simmering.”

Viktor sank to the floor at his feet. Yuuri started combing his hair gently. Viktor sighed and petted Makka who settled next to him on the floor.

“I missed helping my sister when I moved to Detroit. She has short hair now.”

“Was it difficult leaving Japan?”

Yuuri hummed. “At first it was really hard. Detroit is so much bigger, louder, faster than Hasetsu. I really missed my family. But then I got Hanachan. She helped a lot.”

“You never thought of quitting?”

Yuuri chuckled wryly. “Like every skater I had a few dark moments wondering why the hell I was skating. Having anxiety and performing in front of crowds was no picnic. But I guess I was just too stubborn. Too competitive to give up.”

Viktor drifted into a relaxed state as Yuuri continued. “Oh, Yakov wants to see you in his office before practice tomorrow.”

He reflexively stiffened.

Yuuri squeezed his shoulder. “It’s nothing bad, I promise.”

“What is it? Tell me!”

Makka grumbled as he accidentally bumped him.

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Boo. You’re no fun.”

“I’ll remember you said that tomorrow. Now let’s eat dinner.”

Viktor’s stomach rumbled, and they both chuckled. “Just in time.”

 

The next day Viktor bounced into Yakov’s office and sprawled on a chair, one leg hooked over the arm, foot swinging. Yakov glowered at him.

“Vitya, your posture is horrible. Lilia would be horrified if she saw you now.”

An image jumped into his mind of Lilia looking like the Bride of Frankenstein with her hair in a tall beehive screaming her lungs out. He imagined Yakov standing next to her as Frankenstein’s Monster complete with neck bolts and angry grunting.  He giggled until he teared up.

“Vitya!” Yakov’s sharp tone shocked him back to reality.

“Sorry, yes Coach Yakov?”

“Coach Yuuri has offered to take you to Japan with him.”

“Oh my god! That’s incredible!” He jumped up and danced in a circle.   _I get to see where Yuuri grew up? Where he learned to skate? And meet his family and Hanachan??_ _What do I pack? Chris will be so jealous._

“I have conditions.”

_Of course, he did._

“Yes, Yakov,” Viktor meekly returned to his seat.

Yakov counted off his fingers. “You will be on your best behavior. Coach Yuuri has made a very generous offer taking you on vacation. You will follow his training routine without argument. You will complete whatever studies your tutor assigns while you’re in Japan.  You will attend one etiquette class before you leave and have the remaining three scheduled.” Yakov stared at him.

Crap, he’d really hoped Yakov had forgotten about those lessons. Dread settled in his belly, but he nodded. “I will do it.”

“Good, now let’s join the others.”

A thought jumped into his mind, and he felt guilty only thinking of it now. “What about Makkachin?”

“He will stay with me. I’ll make sure Mila and Yura take him on long walks too.”

Viktor could hardly contain his excitement as he stretched and joined the others warming up. He channeled his energy into his skating, feeling light on his feet.

The team paused for a water break.

Viktor patiently listened as Yuuri walked through his short program critique.

“That transition into your triple axel looks choppy.  What do you think about changing to a spread eagle with a back entry into the triple?”

“Yes, I’ll try that. Thank you, Yuuri.”

Yuuri’s phone rang. “Oh, it’s the JSF. Yakov, I’ll be back in five minutes.”

“Take your time.”

“Thank you, bald geezer.” Yuuri chimed in Russian before hurrying away.

Viktor spewed water, barely missing Georgi, and Mila giggled. Yura collapsed onto the ice and rolled around, holding his sides as he cackled manically.

“Yuri Plisetsky! Stop teaching Coach Yuuri unattractive words!”

“Even if they’re true.” Mila added sassily.

“Clearly you children aren’t spending enough time skating! Twenty laps from all of you! As fast as you can skate – no slacking.” Yakov’s face was beet red as he shouted.

“But Yakov, I didn’t do anything – “

“I don’t want to hear it, Vitya!”

“Fine.”

By the time Yuuri returned they were all exhausted, slumped against the rink wall.

“I hope you learned your lesson, Yura.” Viktor hissed in Russian between gasps.

The demon spawn just grinned tiredly, wiping sweat from his brow. “It was totally worth it.”

 

* * *

 

**Yuuri**

Time flew and soon they were off to Japan.  He chuckled at Viktor’s wide-eyed wonder of first class. When the JSF heard its long-absent former skater was returning home, they’d insisted on buying the ticket. Honestly, he didn’t know why they bothered. He’d be sure to do some interviews to repay their generosity. Since he couldn’t have his student stuck in coach alone, Yuuri paid for his upgrade.

The flight was long. He slept when he could and answered Viktor’s questions about Japan. They landed in Fukuoka and took the train to Hasetsu. Viktor slumped against him, head on his shoulder lulled to sleep by the movement of the train. Yuuri wrapped an arm around him, so he wouldn’t fall. It felt exciting and weird to be going home. After spending ten years in America and now living in a bustling Russian city, he felt almost like an outsider.

Viktor woke when train arrived at station. They exited the train, wheeling their luggage behind them.

“Look Yuuri, it’s you!” Viktor bounced up and down before whipping out his phone to take pictures of the gigantic posters of him lining the walls.

“Oh my god. I can’t believe they have those up!” His face was so, so very large.

“Well, you are the biggest thing to happen to this little town.” A voice said dryly behind him.

He whipped around. “Minako-sensei! What are you doing here?”

“Your family couldn’t get away, so I offered to come get you.” She eyed Viktor up and down. “So, this is your protégé?”

“Really he’s Yakov’s protégé, but I’m happy to assist.”

“Yuuri, so humble. He’s an excellent coach! I actually like listening to him.” Viktor said before bowing. “It’s very nice to meet you, Madame Minako.”

“Minako’s fine, kid. Come, come you must be tired, and your parents have been cooking up a storm for your arrival.”

They followed her to a small car, Yuuri and Viktor got their luggage situated in the trunk before climbing in the back.

“Please tell me they haven’t planned a party,” Yuuri groaned. He just wanted a quiet night.

“Oh, no party. Just an intimate dinner with twenty people or so.” She smirked.

“Kill me now.”

Viktor laughed. “And you call me the dramatic one.”

 “I expect to see you both in my studio. You may think you’re on vacation, but be prepared to dance until you drop. I’ve spoken with Lilia-Senpai, and I’m not impressed.” Minako said from the driver’s seat.

“Scary.” Viktor whispered to Yuuri.

Yuuri nodded. “Ballerina DNA. Fortunately, they use their powers for good.”

Yuuri grew more anxious as they got closer to home. He loved his family, but dreaded all their questions. His mother made the CIA look tame. He knew the ‘are you seeing anyone’ question would come up. At least he had the recent move to Russia as an excuse. His family had no problem with him being gay, but they wanted him to be happy, and their eyes that meant being in a steady relationship. He knew his parents secretly dreamed of him getting married one day. Seemed both Katsuki kids were disappointing their parents in this area.  

Yuuri sighed.

“Are you alright, Yuuri?” Viktor asked quietly at his side.

“Yes, just a little tired.” He patted his student’s hand. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Viktor gave a heart-shaped smile. “I am too. Thank you for inviting me.”

Minako parked and ushered them into the inn. “Hiroko, look who I found!”

His mom grasped her own face, tears sparkling in her eyes before he gave her a gentle hug. They weren’t typically huggers in his family, but he hadn’t seen her for so long, and Viktor and Phichit had made him appreciate the gesture.

His dad and Mari came to stand next to them, patting a shoulder each. Yuuri turned and gestured Viktor closer before making the introductions.

An excited yipping sound came from another room, and Hanachan raced into the room like a dog half her age. She seemed even tinier than he remembered since he was used to Makka’s size.  Yuuri rushed to meet her and scooped her up, chucking when she licked his cheek, wiggling in his arms with excitement. “Missed you, girl!” He looked at Viktor, and Yuuri’s smile waivered. “One of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made was sending her here after the accident. Phichit offered to take care of her for me but it wouldn’t have been fair – he had school and practice.” 

Viktor was silent, sympathy shining in his eyes as Yuuri swapped the tears from his own. The young skater wrapped an arm around his shoulders and hugged him, reaching his free hand down to stroke Hana’s ear. She sighed contently.

Mom and Mari showed Viktor his room while Yuuri placed his own luggage in his room. He quickly joined them and gave Viktor a tour.

People soon started showing up. Yuuri introduced Viktor to Yuuko and her family. While Viktor found humor in the triplets’ skating-related names, he seemed a little intimidated by their intense curiosity.  Yuuri made sure to keep his student close and as comfortable as possible. Focusing on Viktor kept his own anxiety simmering in the background versus overwhelming him. 

They sat for dinner, and his mom providing a fork for Viktor, who thanked her in Japanese. His mother was clearly charmed by his accented attempt.

“Vkusno!” Viktor cheered after tasting the katsudon. Several guests chuckled as the young Russian shoveled in the food, rice sticking to his face. Yuuri handed him a napkin and earned a happy grin.

Yuuri enjoyed his own bowl, trying to eat slowly, savoring each bite.  

Once fed, Viktor blossomed, opening up to the guests with Yuuri serving as translator. He was like exotic song bird, adding bright color and sound to their home.

While Yuuri nursed a glass of sake, his dad wasn’t so careful. Viktor clapped as his dad danced on the table. Yuuri groaned and covered his face with his hands.

“So embarrassing. At least I come by it honestly.”

“What do you mean?”

“At competitions I tried not to drink too much. I have a high tolerance but then I start acting like my dad who now had a tie on his head.  I was so nervous after winning gold at my first Grand Prix Final. Celestino dragged me around to meet all these sponsors. He left early – I don’t remember why but I got wasted on champagne. I don’t remember it but I woke up with a killer hang over, ten phone numbers written on my arms, and a phone full of photos. I apparently challenged people to dance offs and then pole danced.”

Viktor’s mouth hung open. “You know how to pole dance?”

Yuuri nodded. “It’s good for core training.”

“Amazing!”

The party started winding down. Yuuri was talking to Minako and Yuuko, and Viktor had disappeared with the triplets.

“Yuuri! Yuuri! Come quick you’ve got to see this!” Viktor’s eyes were big, his long legs pumping as he stamped his feet in excitement.

Yuuri chuckled at the confusion on the women’s faces. Viktor took some getting used to. Yuuri’s mom followed them out. They passed Mari who just shrugged.

The triplets sat on the porch while Viktor pointed excitedly. “Look Look! Fireflies.”  Viktor leaped off the porch and started dancing amongst them with joyful abandon. It was late in the season so there was only thirty or so. Yuuri was equal parts delighted at the spontaneous act and terrified he’d twist his ankle. Yakov would kill Yuuri if that happened. The girls joined him, giggling as they danced.

Yuuri’s mom sighed. “That’s lovely.”

Minako snorted. “That kid needs to get out more. You did a good thing bringing him to Japan, Yuuri.”

 

Later that night, Viktor had retired to the banquet room they’d turned into a temporary guest room for him. Yuuri laid on his bed, petting Hanachan as he listened to music. He should be dead on his feet but couldn’t settle for some reason.

There was a tentative knock on his door. “Yuuri?”

Viktor? Yuuri moved Hanachan off his chest and got up to answer the door.

Viktor stood there a purple crop top and matching soft cotton capris. He held a blanket and pillow tucked under his arm, looking anxious.

“Are you having trouble sleeping?”

Viktor nodded. “There’s strange shadows and sounds. Can I sleep in your room?”

“How about we have a slumber party in your room – it’s bigger.”

“Really?”

“Sure. Go pick out a movie, and I’ll go raid the kitchen for some snacks.”

Viktor fell asleep half way through the movie, Hanachan nestled at his side.

Yuuri smiled from the other futon mat, he closed the laptop and turned off the light.

* * *

 

**Viktor**

Viktor woke up and stretched.  Yuuri was still asleep, drooling a bit onto his pillow. Hanachan raised her head to blink at him sleepily before snuggling back against Yuuri. Too cute!

He looked at his phone. Oh, Yura had texted him.

 

**Feisty Tom Cat:**

I walked ur dmb dog 2day

u owe me smthg from jpn

it better be good

dnt disappoint me luna lovegood

 

Viktor padded out into the common room and was greeted by Yuuri’s mom.  She motioned for him to sit and set breakfast in front of him -  rice, miso soup, and tea.

“ _Arigatou gozaimasu_ , Mama Katsuki!” Viktor said before placing his hands together. “ _Itadakimasu_.”

Yuuri’s mom giggled and patted his head. “Good boy, Vicchan.”

Yuuri still hadn’t made an appearance after Viktor finished eating. He was able to pantomime his wishes to Mama Katsuki, who happily added another breakfast to a tray, which he carried back to his room.

“Breakfast, Yuuri! Yummy, yummy!” He sang.

Yuuri grunted and made grabby hands.

“You have to sit up before you can have your tea.” Viktor reminded him.

His coach sat up with a grumble, his eyes still closed. Viktor pressed the tea into his hands, and Yuuri sipped with a grateful moan.

 

Once fully awake Yuuri suggested a light jog to work out the travel kinks. Viktor jogged behind Yuuri who rode a yellow bike with Hanachan panting happily from the basket in the front. Viktor held his phone out, taking some pictures. Too cute!

Afterwards Viktor took a quick shower before waiting in the common room for Yuuri while he helped his mother in the kitchen. Mari was quietly working nearby, but Viktor was hardly aware of her presence as he thought back to the triplet’s strange focus the night before. Viktor was used to people making a big deal about his hair. He knew the color and length were unusual, and he usually liked the attention, but he’d never had anyone stare at his feet before. Although he wasn’t normally without some form of footwear around others.

He leaned back on his elbows and lifted a leg to stare at his bare foot, turning his ankle slightly to look it at different angles. The nails were well-manicured with lavender polish due to his recent pedicure. One toe was slightly crooked after breaking it a few years ago. It was hardly noticeable. And of course, there were a few faint bruises from his skates.

“Is something wrong? You’re staring at your foot like you’ve never seen it before.” Yuuri’s voice held a mix of amusement and concern.

“Are my feet ugly?” Viktor asked, his voice small, dreading the answer.

“What? Why do you ask?” Viktor winced at the non-answer.

“The girls kept whispering and pointing at my feet last night.”

Yuuri scratched at the back of his neck. “Oh, sorry about that. They’re just super curious. Hasetsu doesn’t get many tourists these days. Your feet are amazing and beautiful.”

“Really?”

Yuuri smirked. “Of course, they’re attached to you, baka.”  He poked him on the raised knee twice before turning to leave. “Lunch will be ready soon.”

Viktor flopped onto the floor, arms and legs spread out. “I’m dead. I’m so very dead.” He muttered in Russian. Hanachan toddled over and licked his cheek.

Mari placed lunch on the table next to him.

From his resting place on the floor Viktor asked. “Mari, what does baka mean?”

“Idiot.”

“Oh,” Viktor’s mood deflated.

She frowned like she was searching for the words. “He teased. Said with affection?”

“Ah, I see. Thanks, Mari.” Viktor grinned and sat up.

Yuuri soon joined him.

“Yuuri, I want to learn to use chopsticks.”

“Oh, okay. It can be kind of messy.”

Viktor took one of his hair elastics off his wrist and pulled his hair into a ponytail.

“Do you have a barrette?”

Viktor pulled two from his pocket and Yuuri took them, carefully securing the stray hair back for him. So considerate! He smiled at the other man “Thank you, Yuuri!

Mari muttered something to Yuuri who blushed. Mari smirked and left for the kitchen.

“What did she say?”

“She called me a mom.”

“Silly Mari! You don’t look anything like a mom!”

“That’s a relief. I think Phichit would kill me if I started wearing mom jeans.”

Viktor chuckled. Yuuri was so funny.

“Say Yuuri, what does Vicchan mean? Mama Katsuki called me that.”

“Oh, it’s a nickname for Viktor. Like Vitya. I can tell her to stop if it bothers you.”

Viktor’s heart warmed. His very own Japanese nickname. “I don’t mind. But why don’t you call me Vitya?” He pouted.

“I don’t want to presume.”

“Yuuuri, I would like you to call me Vitya. In fact, I insist.” He said swinging his chopsticks in the air, the food between them falling with a plop onto the table. Oops!

Yuuri looked a little shell shocked. “Oh, okay…”

 

That afternoon Minako worked them into exhaustion in the studio.  Back at the inn, Yuuri walked Viktor through the process and rules of bathing in the hot springs. Viktor was happily enjoying the springs when Yuuri joined him. While his coach didn’t seem particularly modest, Viktor still averted his eyes but not before seeing the deep scars on one of Yuuri’s legs and others on his back. Others might think them ugly, but Viktor saw them as badges of honor. Yuuri had survived his accident and had come out strong. Something Lilia had once said about strength as beauty finally made sense to him.

Viktor returned to his room. His phone was buzzing like crazy. He was puzzled by the thousands of new followers on his SNS accounts. Then he saw the post on Instagram.

 

**Marikat**

[image description – left side is recent picture of Viktor staring at a raised bare foot like it’s first time he’s seen it. On right side was baby Yuuri in a little tub clutching a yellow rubber duckie, his dark eyes are HUGE, and his expression is a mix of excitement and terror as he stares at his own foot peeking up from the water.]

Looks the same to me. #whatsupwiththefoot #katsukiyuuri #viktornikiforov

25K+ Likes.

 

 Viktor flopped back on the futon.

_Too pure! I feel attacked!_

He picked up his phone and barely waited for his friend to answer. “Chris! Chris! Help, I need to find a dentist in Japan. I have a mouthful of cavities!”

“So I see, darling. You don’t mind being trolled by your coach’s sibling?”

“If she keeps supplying the world with such premium content, she can drag me all day long. Oh, maybe Mama Katsuki will show me Yuuri’s baby albums. I gotta go to dinner. See ya, Chris!”

Chris chuckled. “Have fun.”

After dinner Viktor begged Yuuri to see his old costumes. They were beautiful, often more understated than other skaters', and Yuuri told him little stories about some of them with Viktor’s prompting.

“Oh, it’s the bondage outfit!” Viktor shrieked.

Yuuri laughed. “I don’t know why it got called that. I just wanted something that would represent either gender.”

Viktor’s hand ran over the half skirt, eyes on the flash of red underneath. “Yeah…”

 

The next morning. Viktor jogged behind Yuuri and Hanachan again only this time they were going to Ice Castle Hasetsu.

Once inside Viktor barely contained a squeal when he discovered Yuuri’s first pair of skates on display. They were so tiny and precious. He took a picture and posted on insta.

The girls took Hanachan while Yuuri and Viktor stretched and warmed up.

Viktor executed a perfect quad salchow, showing off a bit. He looped around and skated toward Yuuri who had handed his glasses to Yuuko. His coach skated a few strides before catching his skating jacket’s collar between his teeth while one gloved hand unzipped it.  So sexy! So very sexy!

One second Viktor was simply gliding along, the next he was flat on his face.  

“Vitya?”

He groaned. Not helping! Why had he insisted Yuuri use his nickname? He rolled onto his back and stuck one leg straight in the air. This was a nice piece of ice, maybe he’d just stay here.

Yuuri skated over, leaned down. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” A strong hand lifted him off the ice.

Later his phone flooded with notifications as a video of the incident went viral. #justjetlagged and #katsudamn were trending.

Yuuri looked embarrassed. “Vitya, I’m sorry but the girls posted video of you falling. I responded that you were just jetlagged. Sorry about that.”

Viktor received a number of texts.

 **Feisty Tom Cat** – lol what a clown

 **Popo** – are you okay? haven’t seen you fall like that since you were a novice

 **Baba** – way to eat ice

 **Coach Grumpypants** – VITYA! DO NOT MAKE ME REGRET ALLOWING YOU TO GO TO JAPAN!!!!

 **Beautifully Fabulous Friend** – Jetlagged is that what they’re calling it now? Better stay hydrated. Looked so thirsty for Coach Yuuri. (eggplant emoji)

 **That Thai Guy** –  rip baby russian

**To Beautifully Fabulous Friend -** he doesn’t even know the affect he has on people One dangerous man if ever figures it out

 

Yuuri stared at his own phone in puzzlement. He looked up and met Viktor’s eyes. “I just got this weird email from Mizuno. They want me to model this year’s skatewear for some reason.”

Could anyone be that unaware of their own appeal?  Apparently, the answer was yes, as Yuuri muttered something about other people being better representatives while dressed neck to feet in Mizuno gear.

His phone chimed multiple times, and he glanced at the screen. Yura was blitzing him with a series of GIFs all of him falling and landing face down into various places like a muddy pig sty, lava, off a waterfall, and a large pile of manure.

Was Yakov not keeping him busy enough?

 **Me -** Continue to be mean I won’t buy you anything

 **Feisty Tom Cat -** oh yeah ill show coach yuuri the scrapbook I found disgusting

 

He then sent a pic of Chris’s winking face on a monkey with a swollen, red butt.

Yuuri leaned over. “What’s that?”

Did he tell his coach Yura was blackmailing him all the way from Russia?

“Yura is sending his regards.”

“Huh, glad I’m not a monkey, looks painful. Is he texting you during his practice time?"

Viktor nodded.

Yuuri hummed, his thumbs flying over his own phone.

Mila later sent Viktor a video of Yura screeching as Yakov took his phone away for two days.

Each day they ate amazing food, skated, danced, and explored Hasetsu.  Yuuri was an excellent host, and Viktor fell in love with the small, sleepy Japanese town. He particularly liked the beach where the sea gulls (black-tailed gulls – Yuuri called them) reminded him of St. Petersburg.

They’d returned from the beach one day when Mama Katsuki gestured toward him and chattered at Yuuri in rapid Japanese. Yuuri looked at him and back at his mom. She made a ‘go on’ gesture at him before leaving the room.

“Care to share?” Viktor asked.

A delightful flush graced Yuuri’s cheeks. “Ah, my mom wanted me to tell you that she really likes your sun kisses.”

“Sun kisses?” Viktor was both confused and hot under the collar from hearing the word ‘kisses’ in Yuuri’s cute accent which had gotten stronger the longer they were in Japan.

“Oh, ah that’s what she calls freckles.”

“What? They’re back? But I have a photo shoot coming up.” He started to panic, his hands flailing about. He’d have to buy new foundation to cover them…

His frantic thoughts ground to a halt when Yuuri grasped his chin.

“Vitya.” Yuuri's tone the firmest he’s ever heard him use. Frankly, it was super hot.

“Yes, Yuuri?”

“What did I say about your feet?”

“That-that they're amazing and beautiful?”

“And why is that?”  Yuuri’s eyes blazed into his.

_Help, I’m dying._

“Be-because they’re attached to me.”

Yuuri gave one curt nod. “Just like these freckles.” Yuuri’s thumb brushed across the top of his cheek.

_I’m so dead._

“You are perfect just the way you are. Just be Viktor.” Yuuri released him.

“O-oh, okay.”

_Viktor.exe has crashed._

* * *

 

**Yuuri**

Having grown up in Hasetsu, he hadn’t imagined it would be so interesting to Viktor, but the young skater was thrilled to explore. It was like seeing his home for the first time through the enthusiastic  Russian’s eyes. The look on his face when Yuuri said the castle was actually a façade for a ninja house. Priceless! Since Viktor seemed particularly interested in nature, Yuuri took him on hikes through the pine grove and to the waterfall, plenty of time at the beach, and a boat cruise around the natural sea caves.

They explored the local shopping district where Viktor bought gifts for Chris and his rinkmates. He found a tiger sweatshirt for Yura. Viktor had been fascinated by the local pottery and was over the moon when he found out the gallery had an area set up where visitors could paint pottery. They spent an entire afternoon there.

They visited the shrine and the fourteen giant floats on display at the exhibition hall. Viktor had been both creeped out and excited. Yuuri explained they were part of a parade during a festival held each year in November. Unfortunately, Yuuri hadn’t been since he was a child since it fell right in the middle of the skating season, but maybe he could figure out a way to time a visit, so Viktor could attend.  

The locals who often kept a polite distance from tourists openly greeted Viktor on their various outings. Viktor would greet each person with happy words in his stilted Japanese and a big smile. Honestly, who could not be enchanted by the young charmer?

Yuuri loved spending time with his family, Hanachan, and friends. As predicted, his mom asked him if he was in a relationship. Fortunately, she didn’t press too hard, only saying maybe he’d find his loved one in Russia. Yuuri doubted that but chose not to argue.

He often chatted and texted Phichit too.

“Look at my son blowing up the internet. I’m so proud of you! And those baby pictures- damn you were one cute kid.”

“I can’t believe my mom let him look at my baby books and he posted those. How embarrassing! I had total chipmunk cheeks!”

“The cutest chipmunk cheeks ever! Seriously Baby Russian is the best thing to happen to your fans and Hasetsu in years. Your fan club needs to make him MVP of the year.”

“I’ll be sure to let Yuuko know since she’s president and all,” Yuuri said dryily. His longtime friend had confessed this a few days ago.

“Your childhood crush is the president of your fc? That’s classic!”

 

On their last night, Yuuri, Viktor, Yuuri’s family, Minako, and the Nishigoris had a picnic dinner on the beach. Yuuri’s dad broke out some sparklers, and the girls danced around the beach with them. Viktor quickly joined in and soon pulled Yuuri into the fun. They laughed and danced until they dropped from exhaustion.

The next morning was hard. Yuuri was never good at goodbyes. He snuggled Hanachan and kissed the top of her head before handing her over to Mari.

“I plan to visit again next spring,” he said to his parents.

“Oh, wonderful. We look forward to seeing you then,” his mom said. She gave a little gasp when Viktor bear hugged her.

She patted his arm. “Such good boy. Vicchan welcome anytime.”

Viktor's smile became heart-shaped. “Thank you, Mama Katsuki!”

On the train ride back, Viktor smiled at him. “I had a wonderful time. Thank you, Yuuri!”

“You’re welcome, Vitya. It wouldn’t have been the same without you.”

Viktor blinked rapidly before tackle hugging him.

“Viktor!” Yuuri laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming soon – We find out what’s going on with Viktor and his etiquette course.


	9. Fake Smiles and Protective Coaches (Yuuri)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri notices Viktor’s fake smile and knows something’s not right.  
> Protective Yuuri because I love a protective Yuuri.  
> All knowing Phichit digs up major dirt. Glad he’s on our side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter but faster update. Next chapter will be longer.

**Yuuri**

Yuuri knew he wasn’t the greatest at reading social cues. Growing up he’d often been in his own head too much, isolated by his anxiety. When he had tried to engage, he struggled with understanding the other person’s feelings and motivations. He’d gotten better over the years, but he still found it difficult.  The Russians tended to be very direct, which Yuuri grew to appreciate. It was jarring to his own Japanese upbringing, but ultimately made it easier to interact with the skaters, Yakov, and Lilia.

He wouldn’t presume to be able to read Viktor 100% after only knowing him for a few months but one thing that stood out as a red flag to Yuuri was the fake smile – charming and empty, meant to convey everything and nothing.  The smile had made an appearance briefly before they left for Japan and occasionally reappeared once they’d returned home.

When he’d asked Viktor if he was okay, he’d replied. “I’m fine.”

Yuuri knew without a doubt that was Viktor speak for “I’m not fine.”  Yet the teen wouldn’t tell him what was bothering him, instead blowing hot and cold, sometimes aloof and at other times hyper-clingy. At home he often thrust his comb in Yuuri’s hands, dropping to his feet and demanding attention. Yuuri grumbled about him being bossy but combing Viktor’s hair had proven almost therapeutic for Yuuri, focusing on the lush curtain of silver temporarily banished his ever-present anxiety.

One afternoon he returned home from shopping.

“Tadaima.” He called out, only to be met with silence.

Huh, he’d have thought Viktor would be home by now. He spotted his satchel bag by the sofa, and his coat was laying on the floor next to it instead of hanging up. Odd, Viktor was usually very neat with his belongings.

Yuuri set the groceries on the counter and started putting everything away. He glanced at Viktor’s closed door and hoped the young skater was feeling okay. Should he start dinner?

He knocked gently on the door, and Makka whined from the other side. He pushed open the door. “Viktor?”

The young Russian was laying on his bed, his back to the door. His shoulders quivered as he sniffled.

“Vitya?” Yuuri called again taking a step closer to the bed. Viktor rolled over. Tears clung to his lashes like diamonds. His oceanic eyes were dark and turbulent. Two thoughts hit Yuuri at once. That Viktor was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, and he’d murder the person responsible for his pain.

Viktor extended out a willowy arm, his hand palm up and reaching for Yuuri. All thoughts left his mind as he crossed the room. Sitting on the bed, he scooped Viktor close, wrapping his arms around his shivering body.

Viktor kept whispering something. It sounded like “I’m sorry” over and over again in Russian.

Yuuri ran a hand down Viktor’s hair and rocked him a little. “It’s okay, Vitya. I’ve got you.” Yuuri’s mind cast back to the discussion he’d had with Mila about Russian nicknames.  “I’m here for you. You’re safe now, Vitenka.”

Viktor stopped muttering and pulled slightly away from Yuuri. Raising his head to stare at Yuuri, they were practically nose to nose.  Wondering if he’d overstepped, Yuuri started to apologize “I-“

“Yuuri,” Viktor interrupted before giving Yuuri an octopus hug. Yuuri patted his back.

“I’m sorry I failed. I tried to be good and strong.”

“Vitya, you’re one of the strongest people I know.”

“I don’t want Yakov to get fired because of me.”

Yuuri stopped patting. “How could that happen?”

“Mrs. Rozhkova told me if I told if I said anything, she would have the RSF fire him.”

“Mrs. Rozhkova?”

“She’s my etiquette teacher. Her husband Igor is a very powerful man. I tried to be good, Yuuri, but I got so stressed and I couldn’t remember which spoon was the right one to use.”

Anger and dread filled Yuuri. “Vitya, what did she do?”

“She called me names. Then pinched me hard. At-at the end she hit my hand with the butter knife.”

“Let me see.” Yuuri pulled back and examined the tender underside of Viktor’s arm which was dotted with small bruises before turning it over and gently examining his hand. His knuckles were red and swollen but didn’t appear to be broken.

“You need ice.” Yuuri went to get up and Viktor clung to him.

“Please stay with me a little longer.”

“Okay.” He continued to hold Viktor. “As your coach, I need to report this to Yakov. Do you want to be there when I did it?

“No. I can’t face him right now.”

“Vitya, you did nothing wrong. No one should ever hurt you like that.”

“But I didn’t know the right answer.”

“What if it was Yura? What if he got it wrong and then said the worst curse words in his vocabulary? Do you think he’d deserve getting hit?”

Viktor stiffened. “Not little Yura!”

“Exactly. And not Viktor either.”

Yuuri took pictures of Viktor’s arm and hand and got him some ice. Sitting on the bed with Viktor tucked against his side, he called Yakov who was deeply upset.

“Corporal punishment is strictly forbidden. These pictures are helpful but without a witness, it would be difficult to prove the accusation. Vitya’s right. Her husband is a powerful man, but I have my own power. I will make some calls.  Before I go, let me speak to Vitya.”

“He wants to talk to you.”

Viktor took the phone and listened for a long moment before responding quietly in Russian. He ended the call and handed the phone to Yuuri. “Yakov’s not mad at me. I’m feeling better now. Thank you, Yuuri."

“Would you like some dinner?”

Viktor nodded. “I missed lunch. I’m starving.”

 

Later that night Yuuri spoke with Phichit, only giving him loose details.

“Can you dig anything up on Igor or his wife? Anything Yakov can leverage?” Yuuri asked.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Twenty-four hours later Yuuri received a file that made his eyes widen. Phichit had managed to dig up enough criminal activity to put Igor and his wife in prison for the rest of their lives.

Yakov glanced up from his computer and stared at Yuuri. “Remind me never to piss off you or Chulanont.”

“Only protecting Vitya, sir.” Yuuri bowed before leaving his office. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time - Nebelhorn Trophy ISU Challenger event! Viktor and Chris party the night before the free skate. Yuuri has a panic attack. Phichit gets savage.


	10. Double Trouble in Germany

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri’s first solo stint as coach.  
> Viktor and Chris party before the free skate.  
> Yuuri has a panic attack.  
> Best friend ever, Phichit gets savage with the younger skaters.  
> We learn something new and shocking(!?) about Yuuri’s accident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone watch Skate America this weekend? Wow, what an event! Looking forward to the GPF!
> 
> I've had this chapter mostly done for a few weeks so decided to finish up and post before returning to work after the holiday weekend. 
> 
> Viktor’s short program music – Masquerade Suite: Nocturne. Armin Khachaturian. Performed by the St. Petersburg State Orchestra
> 
> Viktor’s free skate music – Silent Lucidity by Queensryche

**Yuuri**

“Hey, Phichit. Yakov asked me to travel with Viktor for Nebelhorn. He’ll be with Yura at the Croatia junior qualifier the same dates.”

“Oh my gosh! I can’t wait to see you in Germany! Ciao Ciao doesn’t get my humor like you do.”

Yuuri laughed. “It takes skill.”

“So, what are you planning on wearing?”

“Oh, Jeans, a button-down shirt, and my puffy coat….”

“Nope, that won’t work. You need to pack your suits.”

“But Phichit none of the coaches dress up for the challenger events. They’re much more casual than at the qualifiers…”

“You’re not just some coach. You’re Katsuki Yuuri!”

“But…”

“You don’t want to be mistaken for a skater…. “Phichit paused dramatically.  “Or a lost child again…”

“Phichit! You promised never to bring that up – and I was fifteen for goodness sake!”

“Well, you need to rock your coach aesthetic.”

“And my lovely new Mizuno jacket won’t work?”

“Nope.”

“Fine. I’ll pack the suits, but if anyone makes fun of me, I’ll blame you.”  


* * *

 

**Viktor**

 

“Yuuri’s late. Have you seen him?” Viktor was rink side wearing his skates, the six-minute warm up for their group would be starting soon.

Chris looked over his shoulder and whistled softly. “Are you feeling jetlagged, darling?”

“Hmmm?” Viktor turned and almost swallowed his tongue.

Striding towards them was Yuuri. His hair was slicked back, and he wore a tailored suit that was a significant upgrade from the one he wore during his skating years. He’d been an adorable dork in an ill-fitting suit that looked like he borrowed it from someone last minute.

This suit enhanced his strong legs and trim waist. His hands were encased in fine leather gloves, and his dress shoes were shinier than Viktor’s future. Viktor felt weak in the knees and grasped Chris’s arm for support. He maybe needed to sit down for a minute or forty.

“Sorry I’m late.” Yuuri’s voice held a slight tremor. “I had trouble with my tie.”  

Which surprisingly was NOT the hideous baby blue tie Yuuri had worn for years. Viktor could kiss whoever had picked out Yuuri’s clothes because he knew without a doubt Yuuri hadn’t done it. There wasn’t a Mizuno logo in sight.

“Is this okay? Not too much? Phichit said I should wear it. Something about coach aesthetics.”

Viktor sent many silent blessings to Phichit and each one of his hamsters while Chris broke free from his death grip before sidling up to Yuuri, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“You look fabulous, Coach Yuuri.” Chris purred. His hand slid down Yuuri’s arm and squeezed. “And so strong, I can feel your muscles.” He said it like he was surprised, the slick bastard. He knew full well Yuuri’s slim build was deceptive – his arms and upper body were corded, lean muscle. How stupid had he been when he sent Chris that pic of Yuuri bench pressing more than Viktor weighed.

“Oh, thank you Chris.”

Viktor glared at his friend who smirked and winked. The ass.

What Chris didn’t know was how safe he’d felt with those lean, strong arms wrapped around him, holding him tight when he was feeling at his most vulnerable. Holding Viktor together when everything around him was falling apart. Viktor pushed the thoughts aside, he needed to focus on the present or he risked messing up his short program.

He glanced at Yuuri who’d just extracted himself from Chris’s clutches. His classy overcoat was slung over one arm with a familiar tissue box tucked on top.

“You brought it?”

Yuuri shrugged. “Figured it gave me good luck, maybe it will give you some too. Plus it comes in handy.”

 Viktor smiled. Like other athletes, skaters had their superstitions and good luck charms. The poodle tissue holder and a pendant had been Yuuri’s. Viktor patted the tissue holder on its doggie head.

The six-minute warm up was called. He slipped off his skate guards and was on the ice.

 

* * *

 

**Yuuri**

 

Yuuri chewed on his thumbnail as the skaters circled the ice warming up for the short program. God, it was so weird being on this side of the barrier. Viktor and Chris passed each other, extremely close at high speeds, and Yuuri flinched.

Celestino patted his shoulder. “You’ll get used to it. It’s like teaching someone to drive. You want to hit the brakes for them, and then you realize they’re fine on their own.”

Yuuri didn’t bother to remind his former coach that he didn’t know how to drive.

The warm-up was over, and a skater from Spain remained on the ice. Yuuri helped Viktor with his guards and into his jacket, and they watched as the skater fell on two of his jumps. Yuuri winced in sympathy.

Chris was up next, and Yuuri flushed at his overtly sexual moves, wondering what the judges thought as the Swiss skater grabbed his own ass. Viktor chuckled. With his powerful jumps, Chris easily moved to first position.

Yuuri gave Phichit a quick hug before he took the ice. He was so proud of his friend. His quad toe loop was solid now, and his presentation skills were impressive. Yuuri loved his costume. Phichit always had flare and good taste.

“You did a good job, Yuuri.” Celestino said next to him as Phichit bowed.

“But, Coach, I didn’t…”

“So, you’re going to be as stubborn as a coach as you were a skater? Learn to take credit where it is due, Yuuri. You’ve earned it.”

Yuuri’s cheeks flushed and Celestino ushered Phichit to the kiss and cry. He clapped when Phichit earned a new personal best and the second-place position with Viktor and another skater to go.

 Viktor removed his jacket and guards and handed them to Yuuri. He quietly stood on the ice opposite Yuuri waiting for his last words of advice before his name was announced.

“Remember not to tense up and let your face be expressive. I know you can do it, Vitya. Go get them!”

Viktor smiled. “I’ll do my best, Yuuri.” He skated to the center of the ice and took his opening position.

Yuuri didn’t realize he was holding his breath until the music began and air rushed out of him. Viktor was amazing. He hit all his jumps and didn’t rush any of his elements. His step sequence was a thing of beauty. It was hard to stand still watching the young skater.

Yuuri was happier than he’d been of his own clean skates.  The audience cheered as Viktor struck his final pose. Plushies and wrapped flowers landed on the ice as the young Russian bowed. He expertly skated around the young children gathering the items to the rink door where Yuuri waited for him.

Viktor placed a hand on his shoulder as he slipped on his skate guards. Yuuri draped his jacket over his shoulders and wrapped an arm around his waist, leading him to the kiss and cry. Viktor flicked his ponytail over his shoulder as they waited for his scores.

104.12.  A personal best.

“Yes!” Yuuri yelled, his arms shooting over his head before lowering them in embarrassment. So much for being the calm and collected coach.  Viktor grinned at him.

Yuuri hugged him. “I’m so proud of you, Vitya.”

The final skater was a favored skater from China. He scored a 90.34. Viktor was heading into the free skate in first position by a wide margin.

Yuuri checked his phone while Viktor was being interviewed.

There was a new post from Phichit.

[video description – Yuuri following Viktor’s SP choreography with little steps and hops, his hips swaying, and his arms/hands in perfect sync with his student.]

#playsvideogamesthiswaytoo #newbreedofcoach #bestfriend #proudfriend #nebelhorn

65K likes

 

Yuuri caught his friend in the hallway.  “Phichit, why did you post this? It looks like I’m screwing around!”

“I couldn’t help it, Yuuri. It was just too damn cute.”

"Gah, you're the worst."

"And you love me anyway."

 

* * *

 

**Viktor**

 

“Well done, Viktor, but I’m going to kick your ass tomorrow.” Chris said as they changed in the locker room.

“Good for you staying optimistic.”

Chris gasped and clutched his chest. “Och, that hurts, and here I was going to invite you to a party.”

Viktor looked up. “What party?”

“The ice dancers are celebrating their win today and rented a cabin nearby. There’s going to be dancing, hot tubbing, and plenty of alcohol.”

“I don’t know Chris. We got the free skate tomorrow.”

“Come on, loosen up! We both worked hard and passed all the stupid tests. No more tutors! No more studying! Let’s have fun!” A gleam entered Chris’s eyes. “A little birdie told me Luc is hoping you’ll come.”

Luc was a handsome French ice dancer. “Really?”

Chris nodded, a sly grin on his face.

“But what do I tell Yuuri?”

“Just tell him you’re turning in early. That’s what I’m telling Josef. Easy to do since we’re not sharing rooms with our coaches.”

Thoughts warred in Viktor’s mind. He didn’t like being dishonest with Yuuri but the thought of dancing and maybe kissing a hot guy was shorting out his rational thinking.

“Okay! I’ll do it.”

“Excellent. Meet me at my room after dinner.”

Viktor tried to focus on Yuuri’s critique of his skate during dinner, but he was full of nervous energy. His body thrumming with the need to dance and let go.

“Vitya, are you feeling okay? You’ve barely touched your dinner.”

“What? Oh, I’m sorry. Just feeling tired. I think I’m going to turn in early.”

Yuuri’s brows bunched. “You look a little feverish.” He placed the back of a hand gently against Viktor’s forehead.

“You don’t feel like you have a fever.”

Viktor grasped his hand as he moved it away. “I’m fine really. Just going to get some rest before the skate tomorrow.”

Yuuri nodded. “Good night, Vitya. Call me if you need anything.” 

“Thank you, Yuuri.” A twinge of guilt ran through Vitkor before he brushed it away. Time to party.

Ice dancers really know how to party. Music blared, and Viktor let everything go. He and Chris danced all night with Luc and Hans, the Austrian ice dancer. Laughter and alcohol flowed. Luc and Viktor made out in the hot tub before dancing again. Viktor hadn’t laughed and danced this hard in ages. Finally, Chris and Viktor returned to the hotel and staggered into Chris’s room around six am.

They stripped down to their briefs and climbed under the covers. Viktor’s muscles ached. He pulled out his phone and called Yuuri. It went to voicemail. “Yuuri help me! I’m dying!”  He couldn’t say more because the phone beeped in battery death throes. Poop!

“Shut up, Viktor. Get some sleep.”

“Fine, Mr. Grumpy.”

Viktor snuggled up to Chris, trying to relax but his mind was too busy for sleep.

 

* * *

 

**Phichit**

He and Ciao Ciao had just sat down at the hotel restaurant when Yuuri appeared. He rushed over to their table.

“Hi, Yuuri! Want to join us?”

“Have you seen Viktor? I can’t find him anywhere.” Yuuri’s hair was wet and his shirt was on backwards and inside out.

“Let’s get you somewhere private.” Phichit and Celestino guided Yuuri to a deserted hallway.

“Now tell us what happened.”

“Viktor left me a message while I was in the shower. He said something about needing help and that he was dying. At first I thought he was just being Viktor. He says he’s dying at least twice a week, but when I went to his room he wasn't there. The bed was still made. He’s not answering his phone. I tried Chris and some scary guy screamed at me in German or something. Oh my god, there was a story in the news about human traffickers. What if they have the boys?”

“Yuuri, slow down and breathe.”

“What if they’re hurt? I’ll never forgive myself.”

Yuuri slid to the floor, his breathing coming fast and hard. Phichit talked him through it, holding his hand. It hurt to see his friend struggling so hard to breathe.  As soon as Yuuri was better, Phichit motioned to Ciao Ciao. “Take him up to his room and get his medication. I’ll hunt up Viktor and Chris. I’m sure they’re around here somewhere.”

Celestino nodded, his face grim as he rubbed Yuuri’s back.

 

* * *

 

**Viktor**

There was a loud banging on the door.

Chris groaned.

“Room service.”

Oh goodie. Viktor sprang from the bed.

“But we didn’t order – “Chris said as Viktor opened the door.

It wasn’t a hotel employee standing there with breakfast just Phichit Chulanont with murder in his eyes.

“That’s not a happy face.” Viktor retreated as the small Thai skater pushed his way inside. The door shut with a loud click, and Chris groaned again before sitting up. Viktor sat on the bed next to him while Phichit stood glowering at them with his arms crossed.

“Why are you here? Yes, it’s true we partied last night. We don’t need a babysitter.” Chris bitched.

“You want to get drunk the night before the free skate – power to you – I don’t care. What I care about is Yuuri.”

“Yuuri?”

“You left a stupid message on his phone. And when he couldn’t find or reach you, he had a panic attack. One of the worse I’ve seen. We almost had to call the hotel doctor.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“My phone died.”

Phichit pointed at Chris. “And you. Some nut job answered your phone so Yuuri’s convinced you were kidnapped by human traffickers.”

“Och, I must have left my phone with Hans.”

Phichit returned his glare to Viktor. “I thought you were Yuuri’s friend.”

“I am!” Viktor growled, embarrassed that his thoughtless actions had hurt Yuuri.

Phichit raised an eyebrow. “Must have a very different definition of friendship than he does. Yuuri doesn’t have a lot of friends but he’d do anything for them. I was a nobody skater from Thailand when Yuuri was already the top male skater in the world. He took me under his wing, helped me adapt to living in America. He’s a loyal friend. Would have died for me.”

“And they call me a Drama King.” Chris huffed.

“Chris.” Viktor hissed as Phichit’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“You don’t want to piss me off more than I am now, Swiss Miss. They’ll never find your body.”

Viktor believed him and edged closer to Chris who clung to his arm. It would have been funny to think of the tall Swiss guy terrified of the tiny Thai skater, if Viktor hadn’t been quaking in his briefs as well.

“I’m going to tell you something that very few people know. Chris, since you seem to be the source of many of Viktor’s bad decisions, you’re going to hear this too. What I’m about to say does not leave this room. Understood?”

“Yes.” They both squeaked.

“Yuuri wasn’t alone when he got hurt. I was there too.”

“You called for help.” The driver hadn’t stopped after striking Yuuri. The streets would have been deserted that early in the morning. Without Phichit, Yuuri would have died.  “You’re a hero.”

Phichit snorted. “Yuuri’s the hero. I was the one in the direct path of the car, but he shoved me out of the way and got hit instead.”

“What? But why didn’t that get reported?” Shock coursed through Viktor. Yuuri risked his own life for Phichit.

“To protect Yuuri’s privacy and me. Yuuri didn’t want to be known as a hero, and he didn’t want my skating career to be overshadowed by his good deed. Even from his hospital bed he was looking out for me.” Phichit’s voice quivered. “Even though he lost his skating career, lost his bo-“ Phichit clamped his mouth shut and looked away. “Just be honest with him. Treat him right. That’s all I’m asking.”

“We’re sorry.”

“I’m not the person you should be apologizing to.”

“I should go. Let him know I’m okay.”

Viktor quickly dressed while Phichit texted Celestino.  Chris gave him a small wave goodbye, his expression contrite.

In the elevator Viktor turned to Phichit. “He has nightmares sometimes. He calls out for you.”

Phichit nodded, face grim. “He sometimes dreams he doesn’t reach me in time. Tears him up inside. If he ever wakes up in a panic looking for me, call me no matter what the time. He won’t calm down until he knows I’m okay.”

Jesus.

“Is there no one who can help?”

Phichit shrugged. “He’s gone to therapy and takes antianxiety meds, but it’s not something you can just fix. He used to have nightmares every night. They don’t happen as often – stress can trigger them.”

Viktor felt in a fog as they exited the elevator and walked down the hall to Yuuri’s room.  Celestino opened the door, his eyes disapproving as he glowered at Viktor.

Yuuri sat in a chair hunched over, his breathing was rugged. He raised his face relief washed across it.  Viktor ran across the room and threw himself at his feet as Celestino and Phichit quietly left the room. Yuuri’s arms immediately closed around him. Holding him tight. “Oh thank god, Vitenka.”

Pain shoot through Viktor. He didn’t deserve that loving nickname.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Viktor sobbed.

Yuuri rocked him, shushing him. “I’m just glad you’re not hurt.”  Viktor felt a soft kiss pressed to the top of his head.

God, he was such an asshole.

“I wasn’t in my room last night. Chris and I went partying with ice dancers.”

“Oh, I see.” Hurt shone in Yuuri’s eyes.

“I’ll never lie to you again. I promise.”

Yuuri just nodded. “Better get something to eat and rest before the free skate.”

 

Viktor was numb when he went onto the ice later that day. He’d fucked up so bad but he needed to skate well. For Yuuri.

He ended with bronze. He could have skated much better but at least he’d medaled. Chris ended up in eighth place.

He glanced up at Phichit on top of the podium. He deserved the gold, he was a good skater and a good friend. Viktor had a lot he could learn from the Thai skater.

 

 

Back in Russia he expected to get his butt thoroughly chewed out by Yakov.  He welcomed it, in fact. Yakov barely acknowledged him which in some ways was even worse.

“You made mistakes, Vitya. I expect you to learn from this experience."

“Yes, Yakov.”

It seemed Yakov had another skater to deal with. Yura had done a quad salchow during his free skate, and Yakov was still yelling at him about it.

“I better not see another quad from you until seniors, Yura, or I’m not coaching you!”

“But Yakov…”

“No buts…”

“With your skill you can easily win without quads.” Yuuri said quietly and all three Russians turned to look at him.

“In fact, if you win gold at Junior Worlds, I’ll choreograph a program for your senior debut.”

Yura’s eyes lit up. “You’d do that for me?? I mean, fine whatever, but it better not suck.”

Yuuri laughed. “I’ll try not to disappoint you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming next – Viktor is invited by the JSF to replace an injured skater at the Japan Open. There he encounters fellow Yuuri fanboy, Minami. Things go as well as expected…


	11. Back in the Saddle at the Japan Open

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fallout from the Germany shenanigans  
> The JSF asks Viktor to attend the Japan Open  
> Supportive Yakov and Lilia rock!  
> Fanboys Viktor and Minami square off  
> JJ and Michele mess with Yuuri and came away burned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a small goof at the end of the Homecoming chapter. At the end of the chapter Yuuri says to his family that Worlds is in Japan and that he plans to visit in the spring. Oops the GPF will be in Japan and Worlds (not mentioned yet) is in Italy. So, I just removed the Worlds ref and said he was planning to visit in the spring. 
> 
> Viktor’s surprise expo music is “You Only Live Once,” Yuri on Ice closing song. 
> 
> Happy belated birthday to our boy Yuuri!
> 
> Wow, this figure skating season has been wild with so many injuries. Hope everyone recovers soon. Looking forward to the GPF!

**Yuuri**

The flight back from Germany had been awkward. He wasn’t really upset that Viktor had partied the night before. He was a teenager, and teenagers did stupid shit. Yuuri had made his own bad decisions involving alcohol in his teens and when he was in college. 

No, what bothered him was Viktor had lied to him after they’d agreed to be honest with each other. Yuuri had thought they’d bonded over the last months, especially with their trip to Japan. Viktor had insisted he call him Vitya, but then again Yakov called him that too. He felt unsettled, that he’d overstepped, assumed a closeness that wasn’t there. He reverted to calling him Viktor, as it no longer felt right to use his nickname.

He felt exposed and vulnerable, embarrassed that Phichit and Celestino had witnessed his failure soloing as a coach. That Viktor and Chris were aware of his panic attack, and Phichit had likely threatened the young skaters with bodily harm, although no one admitted it. Yuuri hated appearing weak.

Yakov listened to the account without saying much. Merely nodding when Yuuri said he’d do better.

And then Yuuri had opened his big mouth and offered to choreograph Yura’s senior debut. At the rate he was going, Yakov would kick him out of Russia long before then.

Viktor was quiet and withdrawn, only glimmers of his bright personality peeked through. Makkachin seemed to pick up on the tension, whining and licking each of their hands, gazing anxiously back and forth at them.

He tossed and turned, unable to sleep despite the familiarity of his room. Giving up at 4 a.m., he dressed and left a note on the kitchen counter letting Viktor know he was going to Lilia’s studio and would meet him at the rink.

Yuuri took the bus to the studio, and entered using the key Lilia had given him. He made sure to spend extra time stretching, still slightly stiff from their recent trip. He lost himself dancing, which was nearly as soothing as skating when he was stressed.

Quiet clapping startled him out his little world.

“Beautiful, Yuuri.” Lilia said. 

“Thank you, Lilia-sensei.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. Crap, it was later than he’d thought.

 “I’m sorry. I need to go, or I’ll be late.”

“Of course, but Yuuri,” He looked up from tugging off his dance shoes as she paused. “I’m here for you, even if you’d just like to have tea and talk about dance.”

Yuuri stood and did something that surprised him and likely surprised her. He pressed a kiss to her cheek as he’d seen Viktor do once before. “You’re a true friend. I’m honored to know you.”

When he arrived at the rink Yakov motioned him to follow him to his office. Had the legendary coach finally decided he was a coaching reject?

Yuuri tried not to fidget.

Yakov steepled his fingers and seemed to think of his words carefully before he looked at Yuuri.

“I’m not big on talking, but I want to be clear on where we stand after this incident. I know you well enough to know you are very hard on yourself. Vitya shoulders much of the blame for what happened. Even I could have done more – I should have warned you that Giacometti is a troublemaker. Mistakes were made, yes, but you made the best of the situation…”

“Sir?”

“You stepped in and made sure he was fed, rested, and in the best head space possible for his free skate. I know Vitya, and had you not done these things he would have ranked down with Giacometti instead of getting bronze. It was better to have an issue like this at a challenger event instead of a qualifier. The transition from skater to coach is not a simple one. I myself struggled.”

“You?” Yuuri couldn’t have been more shocked and his expression and voice reflected that.

Yakov gave a dry chuckle. “My first student wrangled me into a drink off… it was not one of my best moments. So don’t be too hard on yourself. The Americans have a saying – something about getting back on the horse after it throws you – I believe there is wisdom in this. Therefore, you will be traveling with Vitya in three days for the Japan Open.”

But Viktor wasn’t scheduled for the Japan Open…

Yakov continued, seeming to see the question on his face. “The Czech skater had to withdraw due to injury. The JSF invited Vitya to take his place. They expressly requested you attend, as well. I accepted for you both. Here are the arrangements. You and Vitya will be sharing a room.” They shared a look. “Oh, yes and a film crew will be here tomorrow afternoon. Here is the shoot list.”

Yuuri skimmed the materials. When he got to the shoot list, he glanced up at Yakov. “They want me in the promotional photos and video, as well?”

Yakov nodded. “Da.”

“But Viktor is the skater… I don’t understand….”

“Even though you are coaching a Russian skater, the JSF is proud to call you one of its own and want to promote your return to a Japanese event.”

Conflicted feelings coursed through him. “I don’t want to do anything that would overshadow Viktor. That wouldn’t be right.”

“If anything, it makes him appear special and unique -  what a lucky student to have such a coach. Besides it shows good will between Russia and Japan’s skating federations. I support it.”

Yuuri still had his doubts but respected Yakov’s decision. “Well, if you’re okay with it, I’ll do it.” 

 _Yay, fun. Not._ First Mizuno now this, he just couldn’t seem to escape the camera. At least he’d dropped that stubborn pudge that had lingered after he recovered. He was heavier than his usual competition weight, but it was all muscle.

Yakov gave a rumbling laugh. “I appreciate your enthusiasm. Now let’s go see what chaos our pupils are up to.”

_Our pupils._

Yuuri firmed his chin and gave a curt nod. “Yes, sir.”

Yakov sighed. “One of these days I’m going to get you to call me Yakov.”

 

Yuuri broke the news to Viktor while he ate lunch with the team in the cafeteria. Yuuri’d been running a mental check list during morning practice. Hell, he hadn’t even fully unpacked since Germany. Thank goodness, he’d gotten Viktor’s costume in for dry cleaning – he’d have to rush it to be ready for photos….

Yura glanced up with interest. “What’s the Japan Open?”

“It’s a team event, four singles skaters – two men and two women - from North America, Europe, and Japan. It’s free skate only and the individual scores are combined for the team. It’s really just a friendly competition – a chance for exposure and another opportunity to try out your skate before the qualifiers. The Carnival on Ice, the gala that follows is really fun.”

“Tch. There’s no such thing as a friendly competition. Only miserable defeat. Viktor will make them wish they were never born let alone pathetic enough to skate against him.”

Yuuri glanced over to Viktor who looked about as scary as Makkachin at the moment. His long hair was in pigtails thanks to Mila, and he was slightly cross-eyed as he sucked the straw inserted in his juice box. Yuuri covered his mouth to hide his smile. Viktor winked at Yuuri before waving his hand in the air and saying in a bored tone.

“Da, da, when I’m done with them, they’ll be crying to their mamas in the bathroom.”

“Yeah!” Little Yura proceeded to tug on Viktor’s skater jacket, aggressively hugging him.

Yuuri scanned the list of the other skaters. Oh, Leo would be there.  While Leo was closer to Phichit than Yuuri, it would be nice to talk to the U.S. skater.

“Who’s Jean-Jacques Leroy?” He asked tripping over the unfamiliar name.

The skaters tensed as Yura’s expression darkened. “ _Jay-Jay_.” He hissed out, and his plastic spoon snapped in half. “Viktor, you’d better destroy that Canadian douchebag, or you are dead to me,” Yura said before stalking out of the room.

“Is he alright?” What had this senior skater done to Yura?

“He’ll be fine. He just hates JJ. He mistook Yura for a girl during Yakov’s summer camp last year and proceeded to call him ‘princess’ even after knowing Yura was a boy,” Mila explained.

That was a douchey thing to do. As a young teen Yura had to be self-conscious of his looks. Poor kid.

During afternoon practice Yakov asked Yuuri to work with Yura on his step sequence.

“I’d love to help but Viktor has ballet…”

“Lilia will manage today,” Yakov said.

“I’ll be fine. Please stay and help Yura,” Viktor added.

“Oh, okay then.”

 

* * *

 

**Lilia**

 

Lilia was surprised when only Vitya showed up to the studio. Usually Yuuri joined him, which Lilia appreciated because Vitya continued being diligent with Yuuri’s presence.

“Why are you here alone? Is Yuuri ill? He looked off this morning.” She stared down her nose at Viktor.

Vitya looked lost for a moment. She was tempted to scold him, but the unusual look threw her.

 “Oh, he’s fine – not ill I mean- Yakov asked him to help Yura at my request. I wanted to meet with you alone.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“I’ve been working on an exhibition that Yuuri doesn’t know about. It’s about my time in Japan, and I was going to perform it at the GPF if I place. But now I’m performing at the Japan Open later this week and want to skate it there too if I can. I want to surprise Yuuri and show the Japanese fans how much my visit meant to me, but I’m having some issues and was hoping you would look the choreography and help me.”

Vitya was humbly asking for help? The boy had changed.

“Let me listen to the music first.”

Viktor hooked his phone up to the studio’s sound system. The lively song had lyrics both in English and Japanese.

“Catchy tune. I like it. Show me what you have so far.”

“It’s a bit rough,” Viktor said then went through it, marking out the jumps.

“I see what you mean, but the framework is solid.”

They worked together refining the program for a few hours.

“Thank you, Liliya. I appreciate your help. This means a great deal to me.”

“Will you have time to practice skating it?”

Viktor nodded. “Yakov has extra ice time blocked for me, but I need to keep Yuuri occupied so he doesn’t see.”

“Text me the times, and I’ll make sure he’s away from the rink during those times.” She kissed his cheek.

“What was that for?”

“You’re growing into a fine, young man. Good luck with your exhibition.”

Viktor’s smile was sad. “I’m trying.”

Lilia had always thought Vitya was self-centered and arrogant. A silly boy who didn’t take anything but skating seriously but now – she marveled at the change in him. Perhaps there was something for her to learn here. She’d seen the work – the give and take Yuuri and Vitya were doing. Perhaps she had given up too soon. Now she was divorced – but as final as that seemed – could there be a possibility of a better relationship with Yakov? Both of them were stubborn people, not willing to give. What if she took a chance? Before she could second guess herself, she pulled out her phone.

“Lilia, what is it? Are you alright?” Yakov’s worried tone warmed her.

“I’m fine. I have reservations for dinner later this week. I’d planned to invite Yuuri but he won’t be able to come now that you have him jetting all the way to Japan with Vitya. Perhaps you would like to join me,” she said in a flat tone like she could care less, while her heart pounded.

There was silence on the line – enough for her to question herself. “I – I’d like that. Thank you, Lilia.”

 

* * *

 

**Viktor**

 

Every time Yuuri called him Viktor, his heart hurt. He knew he’d damaged Yuuri’s trust in him and longed for the easy rapport they’d established. Viktor knew he could be self-centered and petty as fuck at times, but Yuuri made him want to grow into a better person. He was determined to prove to Yuuri that he could do better – that he was worthy. He was miserable and anxious. He didn’t want to lose his coach – his friend.

He focused on his practice and packing for the trip. He reached out to Yuuko asking her to send out a message to the fan club, knowing that at least some of them would be attending this event. She was happy to help and was excited to participate since she had gotten tickets for her and the girls.

Yuuri didn’t have a clue about exhibition. The poor man was running around getting everything ready for their trip, including managing the film crew. While Yuuri grumbled about being in the photoshoot, Vikor relished the opportunity, especially when Yuuri’s tailored suit came into play. They were filmed both in suits – Viktor with his hair down and flowing – they stood Yuuri slightly in front and then with Yuuri sitting in a chair, one long leg elegantly crossed over the other. Viktor stood leaning against the back of the chair. There were also photos of Viktor in his free skate costume with Yuuri still in his suit. The film crew then did video of Viktor on ice in his costume and eventually Yuuri joining him on the ice. They managed to capture some candid shots, as well.

On the long plane ride to Japan, Viktor listened to Silent Lucidity and was struck by a new layer of meaning after learning Yuuri had saved Phichit yet dreamed he hadn’t been able to reach him in time.

Viktor had always thought the song beautiful, but the first set of lyrics now stood out – had Yuuri even realized…

 _Hush now don't cry_  
Wipe away the teardrop from your eye  
You're lying safe in bed  
It was all a bad dream  
Spinning in your head  
Your mind tricked you to feel the pain  
Of someone close to you leaving the game of life 

 

He knew he would skate to this song differently than before now that it held more meaning. His skate would say all he could not in words -  _Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri. Let me protect you from your fears. Let me ease your pain._

Once they arrived at the hotel, they ate and then crashed. Yuuri seemed nervous about sharing a room and didn’t go to sleep until Viktor had.

Yuuri was swarmed by reporters and Japanese skaters when they arrived at practice the next day. He seemed particularly uncomfortable with a Japanese male skater whose hair was an odd mix of blond with a red streak.

Viktor draped across Yuuri’s back, resting his chin on his shoulder and narrowed his eyes at the chicken nugget. He smirked as Yuuri became less tense and pushed back against him. Switching to English Yuuri said, “Minami-kun, this is my student Viktor Nikiforov.”

That’s right. _His_ student.

“It’s nice to meet you. Senpai, now that you are coaching you should return to Japan. I would be honored to have you as my coach.”

That little fang-toothed shit was trying to poach his coach!

Yuuri laughed nervously. “Oh, um, Odagaki-san is an amazing coach. You’re in very good hands with her.  I am very fortunate to have the guidance of Mr. Feltsman and to work with his skaters.”

Viktor and Minami took to the ice and continued to eye each other. “I didn’t realize they allowed novices to compete in this event.” Viktor shot first.

Minami gasped. “But I’m older….” He cut himself off and pasted a smile on his face. “Thank you for providing me the assurance that I will maintain a youthful appearance when you are old and bald.”

Viktor’s mouth gaped open, and automatically touched his hair line with a gloved hand. Oh, this meant war. After practice he would text Yura and ask for advice and he’d call Chris too.

“Oh, ho, ho, Mini-dude throwing shade!”

Great – JJ. More skaters to annoy him. The Canadian followed him off the ice and quickly got into Yuuri’s space. His coach was shorter than JJ, especially with JJ still in skates but he held his ground.

“So, this is the famous living legend, Yuuri Katsuki.” JJ butchered Yuuri’s last name.

Yuuri raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t had the pleasure. Who are you?”

Oh, burn. JJ’s face dropped, and he hastily introduced himself before resuming his bravado. “I heard you’d trained to land a quad axel at Worlds. Too bad about your little accident. I would have liked to see you try.”

Viktor tensed at JJ’s insensitive, tactless words.

“I would have succeeded. Nice meeting you, Jack James.” Yuuri said and walked off.

Viktor barely managed not to laugh at the look on JJ’s face and followed his coach.

While Yuuri was in the shower Viktor called Chris.

“Viktor, darling. Have you not heard of time differences? It’s three a.m.!”

“Sorry, Chris. It’s an emergency.”

“What is it? Is it Coach Yuuri? He’s not having a panic attack, is he?”

“No, he’s fine. There’s a little Japanese skater who’s trying to poach him though.” Viktor sent a picture of Minami over.

“Looks harmless to me.”

“And so does little Yura. I need advice. I’m going to war.”

“I’m more of a lover than a fighter, darling.  In speaking of love, are you still planning on skating your love for Coach Yuuri at the gala?”

“My love for all of Japan - well my love for Japan minus Minami. I’m going to crush him with my skating.”

“I hear your voice Viktor, but I swear it was little Yura speaking. Good luck, darling, but be careful. You’re already on thin ice with your beloved coach. Starting an international incident with one of his countrymen is not a good way to get back into his good graces.”

“Bah, I hate when you use good sense even in the middle of the night.”

Chris chuckled. “How are the other skaters?”

“We had a run in with JJ but Yuuri shot him down, and then we ran into Creepy Crispino.”

“Oh, no did he accuse you of hitting on his sister?”

“No! He accused Yuuri.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, Sara gave Yuuri a hug and said she was so happy to see him.” Her brother went nuts and called Yuuri a pervert. Sara was appalled. Yuuri calmly told him he wasn’t interested in his sister, which made Crispino yell something about what was wrong with his sister… what a weirdo. Anyway, Yuuri said something like she’s a lovely woman but I’m gay. Crispino got that ‘I better back up to save my virtue’ look and Yuuri just stared balefully at him and said ‘oh, honey don’t flatter yourself.’ He kissed Sara’s hand and told her they should meet for coffee and chat sometime. I thought her brother was going to have a heart attack. Then he wrapped an arm around me and said, ‘Come, Vitya’ in a low tone, and I was the one almost having a heart attack.”

Chris sighed. “How can one man be so adorable and so sexy? Those promo photos you sent, oh my.”

“I know, right?”

“I need to get some more sleep. Good luck with your skating. Ta ta, darling.”

“Bye Chris.”

 

When Minami got too close to Yuuri before the free skate, Viktor accidentally-on-purpose messed up his hair.

“Yuuuuri! My hair!” He wailed, pointedly ignoring the odd looks he received from the people surrounding them.

“Oh, let me help you with that.” He sat on a bench while Yuuri expertly fixed his hair. “What am I going to do with you, Viktor?” It stung that he was back to Viktor after yesterday, but he rejoiced at Yuuri’s fond tone and the look of pure envy on Minami’s face. Then he got caught by his own game. “Oh, your lips look a little chapped. I think I still have, yes…” Yuuri fished around in his own coat pocket and pulled out Viktor’s lip balm. Instead of handing it to him, he applied the lip balm for him. His finger brushing Viktor's lips, setting Viktor's cheeks on fire. Minami made a sound like a squealing balloon.

“Better?” Yuuri smiled.

“Oh, ah yeah.” Viktor could hardly breath. He stood and hugged Yuuri, eyes meeting Minami’s over his shoulder. _In your face._

Minami was very enthusiastic about everyone else, wishing them well as they went to skate. He pointedly ignored Viktor, who returned the cold shoulder.

Viktor’s free was smooth and solid, the new depth for the song showed in his skating. The Crispinos and the French woman skated clean and strong.  The event ended up with Team Europe, followed by Team North America – JJ and Leo were strong competitors - with Team Japan a distant third.

Minami approached him in the hallway while Yuuri spoke to an official.

“May I speak with you?”

“Of course.” Viktor rolled his shoulders.

The Japanese skater bowed. “I want to apologize. It was selfish and rude to ask Katsuki-sama to be my coach. He is so amazing, and I just want him to be happy. I thought that meant being here in Japan. But I watched how he is with you. He is happy. And you – you skate for him.”

_Holy shit. How did he see that?_

“I would be pleased if we could begin again.”

Viktor thrust out a hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Viktor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri fan club member number 45,386.”

Minami smiled. “And I you. Minami Kenjirou. Katsuki Yuri fan club member number 1,129.”

“So tell me, did you see his Nike ad?”

“Oh, yes! He was so fierce.”

 

Viktor’s gala skate seemed to be a crowd pleaser, people clapped and cheered. The fan club came through, phones blinked on and off as he skated making it look like fireflies in the dark arena. Even Minami joined in.

As he came off the ice, Yuuri gave him a big hug.

“Did I surprise you?”

“Yes, that was amazing!”

They met Yuuko and the girls for dinner. Viktor invited Minami to join and by the end of dinner the fan club members had exchanged contact info.

A notification lit up Viktor’s phone.

**Beautifully Fabulous Friend:**

good for you making a new friend instead of enemy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, commenting and leaving Kudos. They make my day!
> 
> Coming next – Yuuri’s blindsided by upsetting news. Best friend Phichit calls Viktor who provides comfort and support.


	12. Picking Up the Pieces (Viktor)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri is blindsided by upsetting news. Viktor is there to provide comfort and support.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mixed feelings about the GPF. Proud of Nathan Chen but Shoma was soooo close and that deduction for music in his SP being too long…gah. He’s a real cutie. 
> 
> Belated happy 10th YOI episode anniversary. So much packed into one episode - and the twist that we heard around the world! Can't wait to see what the movie will bring!

**Viktor**

There was no rest after returning from Japan. The Rostelecom Cup was only a few weeks away.  At least the travel would not be far, and Viktor performed better for a ‘home’ crowd. His countryfolk had been very supportive of Viktor over the years, and he would perform his best for them.

Practice was balanced between jumps and his programs. Viktor had landed the quad flip but nowhere near consistent enough to try in a competition.

He was at the nearby gym with Georgi one early morning when his phone rang.

“Phichit?

“Where are you?” The Thai skater sounded frantic.

“I’m at the gym. Is something wrong?”

“Go home now. Yuuri needs you. And don’t let him eat more than one pint of ice cream. It’ll make him really sick.”  Phichit disconnected before he could respond.

Viktor stared at his teammate. “Coach Yuuri needs me.”

“Go. I’ll tell Yakov you needed to leave,” Georgi said.

“Thank you, Gosha.” Viktor grabbed his bag and headed for the door. He bumped into Yura in his haste.

“Watch where you’re going, moron.”

He didn’t even stop to engage and jogged home. Opening the door, he dumped his shoes, jacket, and bag in the entry way.  Yuuri sat at the kitchen table with three pints of ice cream in front of him, eating directly out of  a fourth carton. His eyes were red, but his face was strangely blank. Viktor was selfishly grateful he wasn’t crying. He was never good around other people crying, and right now if Yuuri cried, Viktor would probably end up a blubbering mess, which would not be helpful.

Yuuri was still dressed in his flannel pajamas with his winter coat over them, having not bothered to change for his ice cream excursion to the store. He glanced at Viktor and gestured to the ice cream. “Come join me, I have enough to share,” his tone was flat and dull.

Viktor took the seat opposite him. “Yuuri, what’s wrong?” Dread filled him. “Is it Hanachan?”

Yuuri shook his head and slid his phone across the small table to him. He picked it up and stared at the Instagram post of two men holding hands, platinum wedding rings shone on their ring fingers. The Asian man bore a striking resemblance to Yuuri, although no one could truly compare to Yuuri’s beauty. The post’s message read “Married to the best man in the world. Love you Cheeks.”

Yuuri pointed his spoon at the phone. “The blond guy on the left is my ex – Mark. We were together for two years. I thought he was the one and had planned to take him to Japan after Worlds and propose when the sakuras bloomed.” Yuuri laughed, a bitter sound, and Makka whined. “I even had rings picked out.”

“What happened?” Viktor reached out his hand which Yuuri grasped tightly.

“The accident happened. Mark didn’t visit me at the hospital. A week later I got a break up text.” Yuuri ate another large spoonful of ice cream.

The cowardly, cold-hearted bastard. Viktor’s eyes narrowed as anger coursed through him. How could he leave Yuuri in such a vulnerable state? How could he leave Yuuri at all?

“Clearly he moved on to a newer model. Asshole even uses the same nickname he used to call me. Don’t know why it hurts –  the stupid nickname made me feel self-conscious any way.”

Viktor gently blocked Yuuri from grabbing a new container of ice cream.

“Let’s continue this discussion on the sofa, da?”

“Okay.” Yuuri meekly allowed Viktor to guide him to the sofa. Viktor helped him out of his coat and pulled the throw blanket around him. Makka curled up at their feet while Viktor wrapped his arms around Yuuri. “I’m sorry you’re hurting, but this Mark didn’t deserve you.”

“I know. It burns that I could be so easily replaced by someone younger and … not broken.”

“Yuuri, you are one of the strongest people I know. This other guy is a pale shadow compared to you.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Look at his eyes – they’re empty. They don’t have your fire, your intelligence. And Mark is an absolute moron with no imagination and to use a bad nickname not once but twice. As a Russian, I take personal offense!”

Yuuri responded with a small chuckle just the way he’d hoped. “You Russians do take your nicknames seriously.”

“Da.”  Viktor preened a little.

“What – what would you call your special someone?” Yuuri peered at him, his eyes earnest.

“ _Solnyshko_.” Viktor was treading on dangerous ground. His brain was screaming ‘abort’ but his mouth didn’t seem to get the message. “ _Zolotse moya_.”

_Zvezda moya_

_Lapochka_

_Zaichik_

_Lyubov moya_

Viktor would shower his dear one with loving names, so he knew he was special, cherished and if that man was Yuuri…. Viktor would treasure him always and never treat him so callously as this asshole Mark had done.

 Yuuri mouthed the words, staring into Viktor’s eyes. This man would be the death of him. “What does that mean?”

“ _Solnyshko_ means little sun, and _Zolotse moya_ means my gold.”

Yuuri sighed. “Those are nice. You’re going to make someone very happy one day.”

Viktor cleared his throat before giving a bright smile. “Let’s watch a movie. You choose.”

Yuuri selected an action movie with a lot of explosions. While they watched, Yuuri braided Viktor’s hair, his gentle touch both soothing and torturous, before he settled against Viktor, his head resting against his shoulder. The ice cream melted in their cartons, forgotten.

After the movie, Yuuri’s phone notifications were loud in the now quiet apartment. Yuuri huffed out a sigh. “I’d better let Mom know I’m okay.”

“Oh, say hello to Mama Katsuki for me,” Viktor said as he stood and stretched his arms over his head.

Yuuri rolled his eyes. “My other mom – Phichit.”

Viktor chuckled. “He’s a good friend.”

“That he is.”

Viktor returned to the kitchen and threw out the ice cream containers before heating up lunch. Yuuri finished texting Phichit and went to the bathroom to wash up. Checking his own phone, Viktor saw a missed text from the Thai skater.

_TY 4 being there 4 him_

_He’ll prolly have nightmares 2nite_

Viktor typed a response – _I’ll have Makka on standby_

Phichit replied - _I might let you live after all thanks baby russian_

Viktor grinned . Yes, Phichit was a good friend.

After lunch, Yuuri insisted on going to the rink. He skated figures as Viktor stretched. Yakov didn’t say anything but stood with his arms crossed, his eagle-eyes focused on Yuuri. He frowned, the one Viktor recognized for concern. It struck him then. His brick wall of a coach actually cared for Yuuri.

The skaters also picked up on Yuuri’s low mood and whispered to each other in Russian as they took a water break.

“Vitya, is Coach Yuuri ill? His eyes and nose are so red,” Mila asked.

Before Viktor could respond Georgi spoke up. “Children, you are too young to understand, but Coach Yuuri is suffering from heart break. I recognize the signs.”

“Seriously?” Yura scoffed at Georgi’s melodrama which was actually accurate for once.

Viktor gave a brief nod.

“Poor Coach Yuuri. Who could hurt such a sweet man?” Mila’s sympathy quickly turned to anger, and she hissed. “I’ll kick whoever’s responsible in the balls.”

Little Yura puffed up like the angry kitten he was. “And I will cut him with my knife shoes.”

Viktor shook his head. “Just give him some space. He knows you care, and that’s what matters now.”

“Vitya speaks wisely on this,” Georgi intoned, and they returned to their practice.

“Hey, Viktor, who do you think you are anyway, the Mother of Dragons?” Yura sniped at him.

“Oh, jealous of my hair? Yuuri braided it for me, isn’t it amazing?” Viktor said refusing to be baited.

“Tch.” Yura skated on.

Dinner was quiet that night, and Yuuri turned in early. Viktor went to bed but was unable to sleep. He stared at the ceiling, as he absentminded stroked Makka’s fur. He wasn’t sure if he believed in luck or fate. His early childhood had been so horrible he’d blocked most of it out, but then Yakov had found him and given him the world…given him Yuuri. Viktor knew Yuuri saw him as a kid, but maybe by luck or fate or whatever Yuuri would be there when Viktor had the chance to catch up to him. To meet him where he was and be his, just as he one day hoped to be Yuuri’s. Viktor sent out a wish to the cosmos and then buried it down deep because now was not the time for such thoughts.

He was still awake when Yuuri started to moan. Makka whined and immediately jumped off the bed, padding out of the room. Viktor followed close behind, having gone to bed in sleep pants. Makka jumped onto Yuuri’s bed and pressed close. Yuuri didn’t settle with his touch, however.

“Phichit-“

The pain in his voice was a dagger to Viktor’s heart. He sat on the floor next to the bed and took one of Yuuri’s hands in both of his own.

“He’s safe, Yuuri. Thanks to you, he’s safe. He’s in Detroit with his hamsters.” Viktor said quietly.

Yuuri seemed to relax some but whimpered when Viktor tried to release his hand. Viktor reached into his meager experience of receiving comfort and remembered the lullaby Lilia would sing to him during thunderstorms. While a gifted dancer, Lilia had a horrible singing voice, but he hadn’t minded, her rare display of maternal comfort had always been welcome. Yuuri sighed contentedly once as Viktor sang softly to him. At first he stumbled over the long forgotten words but then smoothed out, singing the song until Yuuri’s breathing became even. Viktor knew what it was like to be abandoned like a discarded toy, no longer cute or useful. No matter what he was to Yuuri, he would never abandon him. That was a vow he would never break.

“I will always be here for you, Yuurochka,” he whispered in Russian before releasing his hand. He gave Makka a quiet order to stay before returning to his own room.

The next morning, he was surprised to find Yuuri up and dressed before him. He joined the older man in the kitchen and was served a hearty breakfast.

“Thank you, Yuuri. This is delicious.” Viktor waited until Yuuri joined him at the table before asking. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. I had my pity party, and I’m ready to move on.”

Viktor was enchanted by the fire that suddenly lit in Yuuri’s eyes. This was the fire of a champion. One who took his licks and came back fighting.

“We have gold to win after all.”

Viktor smiled. “Yes, we do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, commenting, and giving Kudos! Makes my day!
> 
> Coming next – the GP qualifiers!


	13. Don Quixote, Pirozhki, and the Rostelecom Cup (Viktor/Yuuri)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Russian team travel to Moscow for Viktor’s first GP qualifier. Yuuri meets Yura’s grandpa. Lilia takes the team to a Bolshoi performance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 300 kudos! Wow, thanks so much for these and all your comments. Appreciate your support!
> 
> A bit of a filler chapter today.

**Viktor**

Whenever any of Yakov’s students had an event in Moscow, he took advantage of the proximity and had them travel a week in advance, training in a private rink away from the other competitors as they arrived. This time everyone was going. Since Yura and Mila had completed their junior qualifiers and had placed for the JGPF, Yakov had them coming so they could observe the seniors and so Yura could visit with his grandpa. Georgi wasn’t competing but followed to train. Yakov always keeping a tight watch on his skaters. And of course, Yuuri was there too, but what surprised Viktor was Lilia traveled to Moscow as well, stating she wanted to show Yuuri her beloved city and had even gotten them tickets for a Bolshoi performance following the competition. Little Yura hadn’t stopped bitching that he didn’t want to wear a suit, which were stupid and boring, and he’d probably die being straggled by his tie.

The thrill of the upcoming competition coursed through Viktor and kept him going even through Yuuri’s practices. While quiet, his Japanese coach was a task master who always found a way to push Viktor beyond his limits, strengthening his technique and artistry. Viktor knew he was a talented skater and had even gotten a little complacent with his performance components before Yuuri had come but now everything felt so much crisper, sharper. Each gesture, each transition done with purpose.

Viktor arrived at the rink early one morning, ready to get on the ice and show Yuuri what he could do. Yakov stood in the doorway and pressed a finger to his lips. He moved and gestured to the ice like he just spotted some rare and elusive animal. When Viktor’s focus turned to the ice, he immediately understood why. Yuuri had just finished skating some figures and had glided out to the center of the ice. Viktor’s heart lurched when he recognized the opening pose Yuuri assumed. His last free skate. While there was no music, Stammi Vicino played in Viktor’s head perfectly timed to Yuuri’s skating. His body making the nonexistent music come alive. Viktor had learned this skate, had practiced it often, but he could never perform it like Yuuri. Even with downgraded jumps, it was one of the most beautiful, haunting programs he’d ever seen. Viktor wanted to skate out and give Yuuri a big hug. _Don’t be sad Yuuri, you have me and a family here in Russia._

 “He would have taken his fifth Worlds championship.  And with a ratified quad axel Celestino knew he would land, broken his records,” Yakov said in hushed Russian.

“Da.” Viktor breathed out as Yuuri struck his final pose.

“Life can be cruel in ways that don’t make sense, but sometimes it turns out to be a blessing. That boy is going to change all our lives. I just hope we will be as good for him as he is for us.”

Viktor stared at him. Yakov was not normally one for deep thoughts. Perhaps Yuuri had already reached the curmudgeonly Russian coach more than he realized.

Yuuri finally noticed they were there and blushed. Gah, so adorable! “Oh, hi there! Let me get off the ice, and we’ll start those stretches.”

 

As Yuuri pushed lightly on his back to further his stretch a thought struck him. “Yuuri, can I ask you a question? A personal one?”

There was a slight pause, but his coach said. “Okay.”

“Your free skate had so much loneliness. I…I was surprised to hear you had a lover yet skated such sad emotion.”

“Oh. I had been working on that program for a few years, bit by bit, before I met Mark. Refining it until it felt right. I wanted my technical skills to be higher – felt the skate deserved that. I was alone for a long time and then was separated from Mark a lot when we were together, spending so many hours on the ice practicing or traveling for competitions. I wasn’t close to other skaters until Phichit. So I channeled all that into my skate.”

“It must have been lonely at the top.”

Yuuri nodded. “Part of it was me – I was too afraid other skaters would see my shortcomings, so I avoided them. I admire the closeness you have with Chris.”

Yakov snorted, reminding Viktor that his grumpy coach was nearby.

Yuuri chuckled. “Even if he is a trouble maker.”

Viktor smiled as he continued to stretch.

 

* * *

 

**Yuuri**

 

He worked closely with Viktor preparing for the competition. In the off times, Lilia would take him around Moscow, eating meals in the same cafes she and Minako had discovered together. He heard more stories about his ballet teacher in a few days than he’d heard in his entire life. He knew Lilia was lonely and was glad to spend time with her. She even snuck him to the Bolshoi to watch them practice. She introduced him to the director as Minako’s protégé which was really embarrassing, but he appreciated her attempts to make him feel welcome.

Yura was staying with his grandpa, but Nikolai brought Yura to practice every day. He was a gruff man but his devotion to his grandson shone in his eyes. He surprised Yuuri one day by asking in blunt English.

“You like pirozhki?”

“I do. It’s my second favorite food now.”

The old man’s bushy eyebrow rose. “Oh, and what is your favorite dish.”

“Katsudon. It’s a pork cutlet bowl with egg and rice that my mom makes. It’s super good.”

Viktor skated by. “It’s soooo good. It’s like heaven in your mouth.”

“Is that right?”

“I’d be happy to make it for everyone after the competition, if I could borrow your kitchen, that is?”

Nikolai slapped Yuuri on the back. “Yes, I think that can be arranged.”

 

During the warm-up for the short program Yuuri’s nerves set in and it had nothing to do with Viktor. This was the first time coaching at an event alongside Yakov, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself.

Yakov seemed to pick up on his uneasiness. “Coach him like you always do. I will only comment if I see something you do not cover.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Viktor’s short program was beautiful. Yuuri had trouble holding still, doing his best not to dance along while Yakov dourly watched at his side. He couldn’t resist a little hop and spin with Viktor as he transitioned into the second half of his program.  Towards the end Yuuri hissed when Viktor fell on a triple axel and was tense for the remainder.

As he came off the ice, he grimaced putting on his skate guards. Yuuri helped him with his jacket. “Are you injured?”

“Nyet, just had a muscle cramp up.”

Viktor was third at the end of the short. Yakov grumbled not pleased with the position. Yuuri asked that Yakov move any interviews or sponsor discussions to the next day and took Viktor back to the hotel. He had the skater do light stretches before taking a quick ice bath. Yuuri got liniment from Georgi. The older Russian skater had Viktor laughing over a Russian soap opera while Yuuri gave Viktor a massage.

After a light dinner, he said good night to the sleepy skater.

The next morning Viktor was raring to go, and Yuuri struggled to keep up with his energy even after he’d caffeinated. The teen went from bubbly and goofy to laser focused, fire in his eyes when it came time to skate.  Leo and the Czech skater Emil Nekola had outstanding short programs and were expected to skate well for their frees. Because they had scored ahead of Viktor, he would be skating before them.

Viktor took to the ice, standing at the barrier for Yuuri’s words. “Soft knees and don’t rush. They’re tough but you’ve got this.”

They clasped hands. Viktor looked at Yakov who just nodded.

Watching Viktor skate never grew old. Each time he performed to Silent Lucidity it became more nuanced. He held his breath and let it out when Viktor landed the quad toe, triple toe loop combination before beginning his step sequence. Yuuri sighed as Viktor completed a beautiful triple axel, triple flip combination and launched into a series of spins. He confidently struck his final pose with a large smile on his face. The cheers from the largely Russian crowd was loud as he bowed and exited the ice. The little skaters working hard to gather the mountain of plushies and flowers.

After receiving Viktor’s very high score while sitting in the kiss and cry, they went back to the skater’s area. Yuuri chewed on his thumb nail as he watched Leo and Emil’s performances. Both were strong skaters but that wasn’t reflected in today’s performance with falls and stumbles. Yuuri whooped and hugged Viktor tight when Emil’s score was announced. Viktor had won!

Yuuri stood next to Yakov and surreptitiously dabbed at his eyes with a tissue as Viktor received his medal from the top podium. Emil had received silver, and Leo had gotten bronze. God, he was so fucking proud.

 

The next day he made katsudon for the entire team, Lilia and Nikolai.  It was soothing cooking the meal, and Nikolai helped. Once you got past the man’s gruffness, he was kind of fun to be around, especially when speaking about his favorite topic, his grandson.

“Yura speaks of your teaching. Thank you.”

Yuuri nodded. “He works hard. I like coaching him.”

“My Yuri is a good skater, yes?”

“He’s going to be one of the best skaters the world has ever seen.”

Nikolai looked at him in surprise, likely not expecting such bold words from Yuuri who could still be socially awkward as fuck sometimes. But not about this. He had complete faith that both Viktor and Yura would break his records one day. He hoped he’d be there to see it. Just knowing the two would be successful dulled the lingering angst and ‘what ifs’ about his own career ending.

Everyone seemed to enjoy the meal even though it wasn't as good as his mom's. Viktor disagreed with him, telling everyone Yuuri was just being humble. This led to a discussion of Japanese food, and Yuuri somehow volunteering to make the team more meals at home.

That night everyone dressed up and attended the ballet. Don Quixote was the performance. It was amazing, and Yuuri wondered if he’d be able to come watch the Nutcracker later. He knew that would be magical. He made a mental note to look the schedules and invite Lilia. Yura grumbled next to him and yanked at his tie. Yuuri reached over and loosened it for him.

“Thanks.” At the end Yura clapped enthusiastically and muttered “Thank fuck it’s over.”

Yuuri turned his laugh into a cough when Lilia smacked Yura on the head with her program. “Such language is unbecoming, young man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming next – Internationaux de France. Viktor faces steeper competition from Chinese skater Cao Bin and gets to hang with Minami. Yakov and Yuuri become a meme.


	14. Calvin Klein and Blue Stars (Viktor)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys get sick.  
> Chris is the devil.  
> Viktor has a steamy dream about Yuuri.  
> Internationaux de France. Minami’s there! Yuuri and Yakov become a meme.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy belated birthday to Viktor! 
> 
> Happy New Year!
> 
> Viktor’s Olympics (year 2) will be set in Sochi so we get the wonderful red and white jacket and none of the current real-world Russia doping fallout stuff.
> 
> In Viktor’s dream, they are their current ages in case I’m not clear with my writing.

**Viktor**

Once they returned from Moscow, it was back to intense practice. The France qualifier was only a few weeks away, and Viktor would be facing off with Chinese skater Cao Bin. It still burned that Cao had medaled above him at the challenger event. Viktor knew he would have given him a run for his money for silver had he not partied the night before the free skate. Cao had just earned gold at Skate Canada, and there was a lot of buzz surrounding the skater who had taken silver to Yuuri’s gold at the last Olympics.  He was already being touted as an Olympic favorite even though the Olympics weren’t until next season. His focus was the current season, of course, but the Olympics were always in the back of his mind. With Yuuri and Yakov as his coaches and his ever-evolving skating, Viktor knew he would be a serious threat in Sochi.  He relished the opportunity to surprise the world and take Cao Bin down a peg or two while he was at it.

He threw himself into his practice focusing on honing all his elements. He still left time to practice his quad flip which he was landing with more consistency but not enough for Yakov’s approval.

“Maybe it will be ready for Worlds, Vitya,” he’d grumbled.

When he asked Yuuri’s opinion, his Japanese coach shrugged. “It could be competition ready sooner. You have the technique down and are committing it to muscle memory. What you need is the confidence that you will land it because without that confidence you don’t commit to completing the jump and then you fall or fumble the landing.”

Viktor skated around the rink feeling out of sorts. His head throbbed, and he couldn’t seem to regulate his temperature, alternating between being too hot and too cold. His tummy was a bit queasy and skating with a headache wasn’t helping. Viktor Nikiforov did not do illness, he would just skate his way out of it. He eased into a spin that was turtle slow and a bit uneven. Gah, he felt dizzy.

 Yura snickered as he skated by. “What the hell was that? You look like an old man!”

“Vitya, get off the ice.”

Had Yakov said this he would have ignored him or argued, but it was Yuuri using his firm, extremely sexy coach voice, and Viktor immediately complied without a thought. His skates already guiding him to the exit.  Even though he was feeling punky, a little spike of happiness washed over him when Yuuri called him Vitya.

He came off the ice and bend down to secure his skate guards. The movement was enough to tussle his stomach and with barely any warning, he was losing his breakfast onto the floor.

“Oh, gross!”  He vaguely heard Yura yell. He heaved again, groaning in pain. He registered a gentle hand holding his hair away from his face while another one rubbed his back. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Don’t fight it or it will hurt more.” He gasped for air, and Yuuri guided him to a nearby bench. He handed him a water bottle.

“Just take a sip,” his coach advised while he got on his knees to remove Viktor’s skates, which by some miracle he’d managed not to get sick on. Viktor tried to protest. Yuuri was too important, too special to be doing such a lowly task. But words in any language seemed to have escaped him. Yuuri put on his sneakers and tied them for him.

A janitor bustled over to clean up the mess. The strong cleaning solution burned his nose, and he gingerly rubbed his queasy tummy. Yura’s gagging sounds from the ice weren't helping either.

“Yura, shut it!” Yakov yelled.

“I’ll take him to the nurse,” Yuuri said to Yakov before helping him up.

Yuuri placed an arm around his waist, and Viktor leaned into his coach heavily as he led him to the small infirmary.

He sat in a chair as the nurse poked and prodded him.

“He’s got a fever,” she tsked. “There’s a bug going around. Fortunately, it only lasts a few days. Here’s medication for the fever and nausea. Make sure he gets plenty of rest and stays hydrated.”

The nurse said more about the fever and danger signs, but her voice seemed to be coming from a great distance. He focused on Yuuri who listened to the nurse intently, nodding his head, and asking questions. He sighed content knowing Yuuri would take care of him. Viktor’s eyes started to drift shut.

“Let’s get you home, Vitya. Georgi’s got the car ready out front. Can you walk that far?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Again, he leaned against Yuuri as they exited the sports center. Yuuri helped him into the car, making sure he didn’t hit his head on the door frame.

“Sorry to hear you’re not feeling well, Vitya,” Georgi said from the driver’s seat.

“Thanks, Gosha.”

Yuuri buckled his seatbelt for him and handed him a sick bag. “Just in case.”

He made it up to the apartment, but his knees gave out as they entered. Yuuri swept him up bridal style and carried him to his room without even breathing hard. If Viktor wasn’t feeling like shit, he would have been downright giddy. Instead he just pressed his cheek against Yuuri’s chest, listening to the reassuring beat of his heart.

Yuuri placed him on his bed and helped him out of his practice clothes. He pulled on a light t-shirt and eased under his covers. Yuuri left and returned with a cool rag, which he placed on Viktor’s forehead. “Sleep, Vitya. I’ll be close by if you need me.” Yuuri left a glass of water on his nightstand.

He woke up some time later hearing Yuuri speaking quietly in Japanese.

“Yuuri…” his voice was scratchy and low. He almost called again, not sure if the other man could hear him but he quickly entered.

“Vitya, you’re awake.”

He helped Viktor sit up before handing him some medicine and the glass of water. “I’m making soup for you. In fact, I was just checking with my mom to make sure I was doing it right, and she’s on the phone. Here, she’d like to talk to you.”

Yuuri said something in Japanese and handed him the phone before leaving his room. He pressed the phone to his ear. “Mama I sick.”

Mama Katsuki cooed in a mix of Japanese and broken English. Viktor closed his eyes and let her motherly warmth flow over him.

“Feel better, Vicchan. Yuuri help.”

“He helps me so much. He’s a good man.” Viktor sniffled a little.

She hummed. “Hai. He care for you. You help him too. Vicchan good boy.”

Her maternal approval washed over him. “ _Arigato_ , Mama.”

They spoke for a while longer before Yuuri returned. He took the phone and spoke with his mother briefly before disconnecting.

“Would you like to try some soup? I can bring some in here for you.”

“I…I’d like that. Thank you.”

“Sure thing.”

Makka followed Yuuri back in. “Makka!” Yuuri chuckled when the poodle jumped on the bed. His long tail thumped against the blanket in excitement. “This is for Vitya not for you.”

Viktor gingerly sipped the soup. “Ah, this is good.”

Yuuri nodded. “When I was little I called it Magic Soup because it always made me feel better.”

After Viktor ate, he was exhausted. Just sitting up and eating took more out of him than a day of intensive practice. Yuuri tucked him back in his covers and place another damp cloth on his forehead. Viktor drifted back to sleep to Yuuri’s soft murmurs in Japanese.

His fever broke early the next morning, and he woke up feeling gross and sticky. Yuuri prepared a bath for him and combed his hair afterwards. They spent the day watching Russian soap operas, with Viktor translating and filling Yuuri in on all the ridiculous plot points.

Just as he was feeling human enough to take Makka for a brief walk, Yuuri got sick. All his daydreams of pampering the older man through his illness were quickly dashed when he learned Yuuri liked to sleep his illness away. He slept so long that Viktor went in to check on him. The only thing visible was Yuuri’s raven black hair. When Yuuri didn’t respond to his name, Viktor worried and poked at him. Yuuri stirred and grumbled at him in Japanese. He had no idea what Yuuri was saying, likely not favorable, but the tone heated Viktor’s flesh.

“Okay, I’ll leave you alone. Just call if you need me.”

“Hai. Hai,” Yuuri whispered before easing into a gentle snore.

Viktor wandered around the apartment at a loss what to do. Even Makkachin had abandoned him, favoring sleeping next to Yuuri than spending time with Viktor. He couldn’t begrudge his dog’s affection for Yuuri though.

He flopped on his own bed and called Chris.

“Viktor! How are you feeling, darling?”

“Better. I’m soo bored. Yuuri’s sick now, and Yakov has banned me from skating two more days.”

“Poor baby. I have just the thing to cheer you up.”

“I don’t think pictures of your cat will help.” Viktor sighed.

“Since you aren’t feeling well, I will pretend you didn’t insult my beautiful Felicia. A friend of a friend works at Calvin Klein, and I was able to secure some never published photos of your favorite coach. Ones the JSF deemed too sexy for public consumption,” Chris drawled out.

“Shut. Up.” Viktor gasped. There were photos even sexier in existence? Was that possible?  What started as a small ad campaign for Calvin Klein had garnered huge international attention, especially after Yuuri became an Olympic champion. It was so successful, the company even designed a dance belt line for him. Viktor had blown his allowance several months in a row purchasing CK merchandise despite Yakov’s ire.

He chuckled at the memory – “Vitya, why do you need so many pairs of underwear? And such expensive ones?”  He’d thought he’d seen Lilia smirk knowingly but maybe it had just been his imagination.

His phone pinged a few times, and he peered at the images on his phone. His mouth hung open. Yuuri was shirtless and barefoot wearing jeans. His Olympic gold medal hung around his neck. The combination of artful messy hair which looked like sex hair and dark eyes lined with kohl were enough to set Viktor’s heart pounding before he even realized what Yuuri’s hands were doing. One hand held the flap of his jeans open, revealing the CK logo on his underwear, while the other framed his crotch. Viktor couldn’t help but admire the bulge he saw there. Guiltily his eyes skimmed to the other images, Yuuri in the same outfit and similar pose but winking, smirking, blowing a kiss, and goddamn it -  licking his lips… In another his back was turned, his luscious ass encased in those jeans as he smirked over his shoulder.  In other photos he was mostly naked save for tight boxer briefs. The campaign had featured some photos of Yuuri clad only in underwear – looking so fine with his thick thighs and skater’s butt – but in these the sex appeal was off the charts.

“Chris, you are the devil. My poor heart cannot take this level of sexiness.”

His friend chuckled darkly. “Oh, then maybe I better not send you the last one. Can’t have your death on my conscious.”

“Send it to me. Right. Now.”

“Fine, Mr. Bossy.”

Viktor gulped as he stared at the new image. Yuuri was sitting on a sofa, one arm casually draped along the back. He was wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and jeans. Again, his feet were bare. Sitting on the floor were two male models clad only in underwear, their arms wrapped around his calves, pressed close as they peered up at him with lustful eyes. Yuuri wasn’t looking at them but straight at camera with his trademark glare.

Viktor looked again at the models and growled. He didn’t like seeing them so close to his Yuuri.

“Did I just hear a growl?” Chris asked.

“Oh, Makkachin must have heard something.”

“Sure, it was your dog,” Chris chuckled. “I’m not as good at Photoshop as little Yura, but here’s the last one.”

Viktor stared at his phone and covered his mouth, giggles escaping between his fingers. Chris had modified the previous photo to replace the models’ heads with his and Viktor’s. Only they were making ridiculously stupid attempts at sexy faces – Viktor looked both slightly constipated and cross-eyed while Chris’s over exaggerated puckered lips looked too fish-like to be sexy. He remembered Chris taking those photos when he’d visited.

He snorted. “That’s too funny, Chris.”

“I’m sending it to Phichit. I’m sure he’ll have a laugh, and I’m still trying to get on his good side.”

“Oh my god, don’t you dare.”

“Done.”

“I can’t believe you! You are so terrible.”

“I know. Love you, darling. Gotta go.”

A text pinged on his phone from Phichit.

 **That Thai Guy:** Thx 4 the blackmail material hows Yuuri

 **Me:** Sleeping a lot tried to talk to him and only got Japanese

 **That Thai Guy:** lol he’s grumpy when sick

Viktor managed to get Yuuri up to eat before they both turned in for the night. Viktor felt vaguely guilty staring at those photos and avoided looking Yuuri in the eyes, like the man would somehow know what he’d been up to.

He tossed and turned for a while since Makka was still with Yuuri but he finally fell asleep.

_“Chris, I can’t believe you got us in. Yakov will be so mad if he finds out,” Viktor said in token protest, barely able to contain his excitement. His seventeen-year-old heart was ready to burst._

_“Don’t be such a stick in the mud, Viktor. It’s not everyday one gets the opportunity to pose mostly naked with the living legend. And from what I hear it’s more than just for figure skating,” Chris said with a sly wink._

_They were shepherded into a room and each handed a package of underwear and shown where to change. They emerged roughly the same time, both wearing white boxer briefs._

_“No, no. That will not do for the silver-haired one. Get him a pair of the micro briefs.” The man stared at Viktor a moment. “In black. That will be a nice contrast to his pale skin.”_

_After Viktor changed into the new pair which barely covered his ass cheeks, they were herded into another room with four other models where their hair and make-up were attended to. The man working with Viktor gushed over his hair, deciding to leave it loose with the shoot director’s approval._

_Finally, they were led into the studio and asked to line up shoulder to shoulder. He and Chris were separated, Chris starting the line on the left, with Viktor ending it on the right. Yuuri was speaking to the photographer quietly on the other side of the room and didn’t appear to notice them until the director called to them._

_Yuuri gracefully strode over to the line, his gait rolling, his bare feet slightly turned out indicative of his many years of dance. He quietly greeted each model as he walked the line. When he stopped in front of Viktor, Viktor planted one hand on a cocked hip, flipped his hair with the other and gave the skater a sassy wink. While dressed in the same outfit as the CK photo, Yuuri looked as he did now. And frankly Viktor liked him best this way._

_Yuuri blinked. “Vitya?”_

_Viktor pressed a finger to his own lips._

_“Have you selected which models you’d like to work with, Mr. Katsuki?”_

_“Him.”_

_Viktor’s heart beat fast at the intent look on Yuuri’s face._

_“Very good. And the other one?”_

_“I only want him.”_

_“But Mr. Katsuki the balance would be better with two. Plus it implies menage or harem. Very sexy you know.”_

_“I’m sorry. It’s either him, or I don’t do it at all.”_

_The man turned red, clearly flustered. “Yes, of course.”_

_The others were ushered out while Yuuri was seated, and Viktor gracefully flowed down to sit at his feet. They followed the seemingly endless direction. Viktor could see the signs of fatigue around Yuuri’s mouth and eyes, while his own neck started to ache being cocked at such an angle. Deciding to have some fun, he caressed the velvety skin around Yuuri’s ankle. The older skater didn’t look at him but he felt fingers brush a few strands of his hair._

_Grinning, he pressed his face against Yuuri’s knee and kissed it before playfully peeking up at him. Yuuri’s eyes shifted down to him and a smile tugged at his lips. Viktor fluttered his lashes at him and blew him a kiss. Yuuri chuckled and then apologized to the director. The shoot finally wrapped up and suddenly the room was empty except the two of the them._

_Yuuri, ever the gentleman, helped Viktor to his feet before pulling him into a hug. “I don’t think I could have survived that last part without you, Vitya. What can I do to thank you?”_

_“You can kiss me.” Viktor whispered against his ear, relishing the other man’s shiver, his clothes bushing against Viktor’s bare skin._

_Yuuri pulled back enough so he could gaze at him. “Do you think you can handle that, Vitya?” A smirk played on his lips, challenge in his eyes._

_“Yes,” he said with bravado though he felt shaky, like he’d eaten way too much sugar._

_Yuuri’s eyes gleamed as he pulled Viktor close again. Their lips met first in a soft, sweet kiss. Yuuri stroked Viktor’s hair with one hand while the other explored his back. Their kiss soon grew heated, their tongues dancing together as Viktor pressed against Yuuri whose hands slide down to cup his ass. Viktor whined when Yuuri’s lips moved from his but then moaned as the slightly shorter man kissed along his jaw and at that sensitive point by his ear. Yuuri’s warm, strong hands slipped into the back of the tiny briefs squeezing the bare flesh of Viktor’s ass, and his soft kisses to his neck changed to love bites, marking Viktor as his own…_

“Hah!” Viktor gasped, his back arching, his toes curling as he came. Panting, he lay back on his bed, disoriented. His cheeks heated when he realized what had happened. He hadn’t had a wet dream since his early teens and to be so aroused by something so innocent as kisses and hands on his ass…. His brain had conjured the intimacy he carved to send him right over edge in a way that only Yuuri could do – if only in his dreams.

He grabbed his discarded t-shirt and wiped himself up before grabbing his phone. It was early morning, he might as well get up and shower. He noticed a text from Chris.

 

 **Beautifully Fabulous Friend** – I hope you had sweet dreams (eggplant emoji)

 

He gave what was cross between a chuckle and a groan. Chris was like a sexual psychic or something. He left his phone on the bed without responding and went to shower.

After coaxing Makka away from Yuuri, he took him for a longer walk than before. He was feeling much better and couldn’t wait to get back to skating.

Yuuri emerged from the bathroom freshly showered when they returned. Viktor tried to ignore how sexy his towel dried hair looked.

“Hey, Vitya.” Yuuri’s face wasn’t pinched in discomfort, his eyes clearer, and as a plus he was back to speaking English.

Viktor smiled. “Yuurrri, you look less dead today.”

The other man sputtered out a laugh. “Thanks….I think.”

“What would you like to eat? I’ll make it for you.”

“Oh, thank you.”

They ended up back on the couch watching Russian soap operas again. Yuuri admitted he found them strangely compelling.

 

They were finally cleared to come back to the rink. The first day back was the worst, but his body quickly adjusted to the workload. The days quickly passed, and they were off to France.  Yakov and Viktor were sharing a room while Yuuri had his own.

The practice before the short program went well. Viktor tried to ignore Cao Bin, who had a reputation for intimidating skaters. Instead he focused on his jumps and greeted Minami as they passed each other. The Japanese skater seemed to be working on a skate that had impressive footwork – not a copy of Yuuri’s but clearly inspired by him. Viktor smiled, happy to see Yuuri’s influence on other skaters.

He had a quiet meal with his coaches with Yakov taking time to break down some options for him. He partially listened to his coach while watching Yuuri on the sly. He still felt a little awkward around him after his dream, but he just couldn’t seem to take his eyes off him.

“Vitya…”

He started. “Yes, Yakov?”

“I don’t want you trying the quad flip. You’re not ready for it.”

Viktor slumped in his chair. “Fine.”

He and Minami were in two different groups but he had the chance to wish the Japanese skater good luck before he went on.

“Minami, your costume looks like Yuuri’s from the Lohengrin program.”

Minami’s smile was dazzingly. “I’m so glad you recognized it! I made it myself.”

“Really?! You’re so talented!”

“Thanks, Viktor!”

Minami’s skate was a real crowd pleaser, full of charm and energy. Yuuri grinned from next to him as Minami landed a quad toe loop.

“It’s good to see him grow. His jumps were inconsistent and even when he had great skates, the press overlooked them and focused on my achievements. I’m glad he’s finally getting the recognition he deserves.”

Viktor made a mental note to share this with Minami knowing the skater would be over the moon.

He was skating in the final group along with Cao Bin. During the six-minute warm-up the Chinese skater edged close to Viktor as he skated by, forcing Viktor to press against the boards to avoid contact. He looked up to see displeasure on both his coaches' faces. Yuuri turned to Cao’s coach and said something to her. She nodded briefly, and Yuuri gave her a slight bow.

Time was called, and they all left the ice except for the first skater. Viktor watched Cao’s coach speak to him sharply in Chinese while the skater stared at the ground, his face defiant. Viktor’s nerves were up, especially since he’d be skating directly after Cao.

“Vitya, focus on your skate not him.” Yuuri said, grasping his arm lightly. Viktor released a breath. Somehow Yuuri’s touch grounded him more than anything. Yuuri handed him his headphones, and he listened to music while Yuuri fixed his hair.

Cao’s skate was aggressive. He packed in a lot of jumps, but he fell on one and touched down on another. It was still an amazing program, and the crowd loudly cheered. Chinese flags waving throughout the crowd.

It was time. Yuuri had both hands on his arms and stared into his eyes. “Focus on skating clean, Vitya. Go show them what you can do.” He hugged him briefly and received a pat on the back from Yakov before making it out onto the ice.

He skated around a bit, twisting his upper body and shook out his arms before assuming his opening pose. Masquerade Suite flowed over him, and he danced. Waltzed along with a dream partner as the crowd faded away. The dream returned to him, and some of that intimacy flowed into his expression and gestures as he danced across the ice.

Suddenly it was too loud, the world intruding into his quiet space. He blinked realizing he was in his final pose, the crowd cheering. He bowed to each side of the stadium before skating off the ice. He held Yuuri’s shoulder as he slipped on his guards.

“Well done, Vitya.” Yakov said, while Yuuri held up his jacket for him to slip on.

The three of them sat in the kiss and cry, Viktor taking a long drink from his water bottle. He was tense, not sure how well he’d done since he’d blanked out most of his skate. Yuuri must have picked up on his tension, as he squeezed his knee before wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “You were amazing. Each time you skate, I see something new and beautiful.”

“Thank you, Yuuri.”

Yakov took that moment to run through the list of errors but Viktor only half-listened. His score came up.

“That’s higher than I thought it would be,” Yakov admitted grudgingly.

Viktor and Yuuri grinned at each other. He was heading into the free skating only a few points below Cao Bin.

 

Minami had placed fifth in the short program so was skating with their group the next day.  His jazzy number was fun and much smoother than it had been at the Japan Open.

Viktor gave him a high-five as he came off the ice. “Great job, Minami!”

Minami was so happy he babbled half in English and half in Japanese, Viktor only understanding about one word of it. The excited skater went to the kiss and cry with his coach.

Yuuri wrapped an arm around his waist, and Viktor leaned into him with a happy sigh. “You’ve been really good with him. I know he’s a lot to take, but he’s really sweet. It’s good to see you reaching out to other skaters.”

“I like him. It’s nice to see skaters support each other unlike some people,” Viktor eyed Cao Bin who was giving him the skunk eye from across the way.

Yuuri hmphed. “Yes, well there’s assholes in every bunch. Don’t let him get to you, Viktor. He’s only got a few more years of his career left, and he knows it. You’ll be winning gold long after he’s gone.”

Viktor sighed Yuuri’s faith in him seemed to know no limits. “Thank you, Yuuri.”

“Just calling it the way I see it.” He felt the shrug and grinned.

 

Things were going smoothly with his free until he popped his quad lutz dropping it to a single. There was a buzz in the crowd, and he stumbled into his next element distracted but quickly caught up – his Russian training kicking in, allowing him to leave the mistake behind and continue on.  He’d needed that jump to compete with Cao Bin’s base score – and that assumed the skater wasn’t modifying his program which wasn’t likely. Most skaters increased the difficulty as the season progressed.  Viktor allowed muscle memory to take him through his next spins signaling the start of the second portion of the program. He needed to add another quad to make up for the one he flubbed. His mind and body clicked. He knew exactly what to do. 

He picked up speed, setting up for the jump, visualized completing it and launched off the backward inside edge of his right skate. He flew through the air with four full revolutions and landed on the backward outside edge of his left skate.

The crowd was quiet for a beat, and then there was screaming and clapping. He’d nailed the quad flip in competition. The first to do so! Because he had completed it during the second portion of the program, it would receive a higher score.

He concentrated on finishing the program, completing a triple axel before launching into his final spins. He barely bowed before racing across the ice.

“Yuuri!! Did you see that! I did it! I did it!”

He skated to the exit and was engulfed in a giant hug. “Vitya, you did it! I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Yakov grumbled at the curse word, but Vitya barely noticed as Yuuri planted a kiss on his cheek.  They ended up sitting in the kiss and cry for a long time as the judges ratified the quad flip. He ended up with a high score and a personal best.

Minami was jumping up and down and tackled Viktor with a hug. “Oh my gosh, that was so amazing! You did something even Katsuki-sama couldn’t do.” He then turned beet red and stammered. “No offense…”

Yuuri laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “None taken.”

They waited for Cao Bin’s scores to come in knowing it was going to be close.  One half of a point. Cao had beat him by half a point. Yuuri and Yakov grumbled about judge bias, and that Viktor had been robbed. While it stung that he was beaten by such a narrow margin by the Chinese skater, it was lessened by his new jump and personal best. He was also thrilled that Minami had medaled for the first time in an international event.

Cao, Viktor, and Minami took to the podium. Instead of receiving medals they received large plastic blue stars. What the hell… Viktor wasn’t sure it would fit in his trophy case.  He shrugged, looking at Cao’s ginormous blue star, at least he didn’t have to deal with that monster.

He picked up his phone later and grinned. There were several postings about his jump and his coaches’ reactions to them.  One was a side by side of Yakov and Yuuri during his skate, the joke being Yakov’s face looked the same throughout most of it while Yuuri’s face was all over the map with his expressions. The running meme was when your student ratifies a jump.  Yakov barely blinks while Yuuri’s mouth is hanging open, his hands on his cheeks, his glasses slightly off center and next frame Yakov with one side of his mouth switched up while Yuuri is jumping up in the air, arms up, and glasses flying.

Congratulatory texts flooded in, well except from Yura.

 

 **Feisty Tom Cat:** Nice star Are you going to eat lunch and take a nap like a good Kindergartner?

 

“Ignore Yura. He’s just jealous you get to do quads.”

Viktor looked up at Yuuri. “How did you know it was Yura?”

“You get this look on your face when he riles you up. Like you’ve bitten into something sour like a lemon by accident. Like you’re both surprised and irritated at once.”

“Yuuri, you wound me. I didn’t know I made such weird faces.”

“Actually, it’s really cute.” Yuuri’s cheeks flushed. “Oh, um sorry I forget guys don’t like to be called cute.”

Viktor looped an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders. “I don’t mind.”

 

The Grand Prix placements were finalized after Skate America. The six male skaters were Cao, Viktor, Chris, JJ, Michele, and Emil.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plastic stars were a real thing from this year’s Internationaux de France. They had different colors for pairs and women's singles. 
> 
> We’ll learn why Yuuri decided to do the super sexy (yet somewhat out of character) Calvin Klein campaign later in the story.
> 
> Coming Next: Yuuri’s birthday. The Grand Prix Final. Junior dark horse Otabek arrives to the fic.
> 
> Thank you so much for continuing to read this story and providing comments and Kudos. They make my day and help inspire me to write.


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